“You never answered my question,” I said. “You never told me what—what you’re going to do to me.”
He raised one eyebrow. “Do I have to do anything to you?”
“You called me the Curse Girl! You forced my father to give me to you! You must want something.”
He gave me a look that made me blush all the way to my hair. “Not that,” he said, disdainful at the very idea.
Jerk. I hadn’t even implied anything like that. I ground my teeth together to keep back angry words. “What, then?”
“If you’re the Curse Girl, you’re going to help set me free from the curse I’m under.” He returned his attention to his soup.
No way, I wanted to say, but I was supposed to be acting cooperative. “Well, what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say, accomplish? Pray tell, because I certainly don’t like being here. I’d like to leave as soon as possible, and if breaking some curse will let me—”
He glanced up once, eyes bored. “Please stop talking. I’m trying to eat.”