Tomb of buried emotions (2)

Zena's cheeks had turned pink, as she understood that Noah, even if he did not know the truth—he had a slight inkling about what she felt for Nicolai. 

She pursed her lips and nonchalantly remarked, "I am not doing anything as you claim. I mean—"

"There is no need for you to deny anything," Noah flicked the little dirt that had settled on his shoulder because of the air that blew in the silent corridor, through the window. "I know things as I pay attention." 

He pulled a cigar case from his pants pockets and took one out. 

"Your mother wouldn't have suggested the alliance if you had not requested it," he lit up the cigar and watched its end burn. "How touching." 

Zena clenched her fingers. She said to Noah, "You have no right to take mickey." Her lips curled in a disdainful smirk as she remarked, "If you were apt enough then you wouldn't be in this situation either."