"Did I not tell you clearly the other day?" Mircea had Frey's undivided attention. She could feel the rage flowing hot through his body ten feet far. It seemed everyone could feel it.
"Was my no not clear enough?" Mircea challenged him with a glare of her own. King Kirill relaxed when Mircea fought back his son with the same energy. There was a sign, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes.
Frey assessed Mircea, scrutinized her from head to toe for what felt like eternity. His breathing was ragged as he continued shooting daggers through his eyes at her. Mircea was unwavered from his behaviour. At least her outer demeanour was. She wasn't looking on the inside-for better reasons she had decided against it.
"If you are so eager to have me as your husband, marry me now." He pronounced every word without much care. There was a stretched silence. Mircea wasn't sure if she wanted to answer him at all.