“This is ridiculous,” I bit out, then I sucked in my breath as I steadied myself on the footstool Jared had so graciously provided. One of the legs was shorter than the other, which meant I was using all of my weight to keep myself steady as I ran a feather duster over the bookshelves. They still towered above my head. There was no way I was going to reach the highest shelves, even with a stool.
And there was no way I was standing on my tip-toes, either. I wasn’t going to give Jared the satisfaction. I’d done stupid things for my own selfish gain, sure, but this was by far the dumbest, most degrading thing I’d ever done.
And all for access to his study, whenever I wanted.
When I’d stitched those flowers into his sparring clothes, I’d assumed he’d have nothing else to wear into the ring the next day. He would’ve been forced to wear them, and he would have been laughed at by his crew. It was why I’d spent hours upon hours stitching until my fingers were raw and bleeding.