Ilia raised an elegant eyebrow as she was not listened to, before rubbing her temple, and then pointed at the guard. "Hold."<br/><br/>The hold person spell went off, and she pushed herself up from the table, her hood sliding backwards to reveal her golden red eyes and fire red hair. Her dark skin gleamed in the flickering torch light, and she opened her robe enough to let one dainty arm slide out, the fingernails long and thick. She closed her claws about her slaves throat, and then began backing away, tipping the slave forward until she was level with Illia's head. She sighed, mentally complaining about being so short that EVERY slave was taller than she was, before she began squeezing the paralyze woman, preventing her from getting even the small amount of air the spell would let her. "I said that you would call me either Mistress, or Mistress Illia. However, since you can't listen, I am of two minds what to do about you. The first is tear your helpless throat open and hang your nude corpse outside the manor, and the second is to tear out your tongue so you can never misspeak again. What I decide do to you is dependent on how well you behave for the rest of the fortnight. One mistake, and you lose your tongue. Now, you can submit or die. Which?"<br/><br/>She released her slave's throat enough to let the slave voice her decision, the spell allowed her to do that much, though the male standing just beside them would likely not be able to hear her.