Crown of Cinders (Imdalind #7)(139)

“A job?” I asked as I slid off the desk to face him.

My mom yelled again, her voice loud at the top of the stairs. I wanted to turn toward her—to be the obedient child I always was—but I couldn’t make myself move. Not yet.

“Yeah, so don’t be too long. My slave laborers normally don’t get dinner breaks.” He smiled again as my jaw dropped, the odd, spluttering sounds coming from my mouth again.

“Slave laborer!” I tried to regain control, but nothing seemed to be cooperating and my fire-hot temper bubbled uncomfortably.

“Smile, firecracker,” he said, his smile leaving me sputtering as he waved to my mom, who I was sure was right behind me. Then, he left his room.

How did he always get under my skin? And for the stupidest things, too. Ugh.