On any other day, in any other conflict, she would find reason in his actions, but this - this was beyond anything for which she'd apologize. Her own mother, of all people. Surely, that had been a conscious part of his decision to toy with her in such a way, as if she was someone lower than him.

Facing with window, she hears the struggle in his pace, even as he walks across the room. With a snap of her fingers, the book appeared before him - if he wasn't fast enough, the tome would fall on his feet, but she did not rely on such a thing. He was always fast, faster than she would ever be.