"Did they now... " He sounded disinterested, and it occurred to Zoey that while he'd heard her, he hadn't really registered her words. At least, not yet. He was preoccupied waving his signature across the bottom of his note, and adding a 'PS' to the bottom.<br/><br/>Once he'd returned the quill - the standard kind, rather than his mechanical pen that, for all its virtues, was not nearly so good for writing neatly - to its inkwell, his attention switched to the trembling girl. He frowned and repeated the words "Did they now...?" only this time they were more decisive and venomous. His brow knitted thoughtfully. He wasn't used to such disobedience from his staff, certainly not the ones in his household, and it grated that they thought they could get away with it. Teasing Zoey was one thing, that was to be expected, but *demanding* her? Threatening her? That was a privilege reserved for Quentin himself.<br/><br/>It was not so much his care for the girl as his selfish desire to control her completely that upset him, but either way Zoey was treated to the image of his face clouding over with irritation. "You did well telling me. Noone but I gets to command you, else what would the point be in getting to command you at all?" He paused and worked a few things over in his mind. "Here's what we'll do... We'll call them into the hall when I eat. We'll give the head chef - a good man, him - any outstanding pay of his supposed assistants, and furthermore you will punish them for me. Slaves or employees, there is a line not to be crossed and they most certainly crossed it."<br/><br/>Quentin eased back in his seat, content with his decision. As though his eye caught sight of Zoey, though, he paused. "In which case I suppose you ought to go clean yourself up. And select something suitable to wear, then bring it here." He thought of warning her that she wasn't in the clear just because she was allowed to wash, but thought better of it. Instead he merely waved a hand to dismiss her.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>