Marry gasped as she stepped back into the room, her eyes widening at the sight of me slumped on the floor. She hurried over, looping an arm under my elbow to help me to my feet. “Ma’am—are you hurt?”

“I’m fine,” I said, brushing dust from my skirt. “Thank you, Marry.”

She hesitated, wringing her hands.

“Mr. Rafayel… he made it clear you weren’t to leave. If you defy him, he’ll—” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You know how he gets, ma’am. He doesn’t take kindly to being crossed.”

“He’s a controlling madman,” I snapped, sharper than I’d intended. Marry flinched. I softened my tone. “I don’t care what...