George's POV

“Wendy.” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.

She stopped, her expression unreadable. “Your Highness.” she said, her tone perfectly neutral, betraying nothing. “What is the meaning of this?”

“The meaning?” I repeated, my frustration bubbling over. “What's the meaning of this? Me finding you after what happened, acting like nothing ever did?”

Her lips thinned. “I'm at work, Your Highness. If you have something to say, you can schedule an appointment like everyone else.”

“An appointment?” I scoffed. “Last night wasn't an appointment, Wendy.”

A flicker of something – regret? – crossed her face, but it was gone so quickly I couldn't be sure I'd seen...