"Seera, my dear," Grandpa Marcuset attempted, his booming voice vibrating as the carriage violently drifted around a sharp corner, entirely uprooting a merchant's fruit cart in the process. "Perhaps we should approach this with... a tactical mind? Murdering your husband in the middle of the prime merchant district might draw unwanted Imperial attention!"
Heena didn't turn her head. She just continued to stare blankly at the front wall of the carriage, her voice dropping into a register so cold it could freeze fire.
"I am not going to murder him, Grandfather," Heena stated softly.
Grandpa let out a massive sigh of relief. "Oh, good. Because the paperwork for—"
"I am going to completely dismantle him," Heena interrupted, her fingers lightly tapping against her knee in a rhythmic, terrifying countdown. "I am going to break his legs, sell his internal organs on the black market to recoup my financial losses, and then use his skull as a paperweight for the new estate managers."
