Plaything?
The word struck Evangeline like a slap. For a heartbeat, she was left stunned, breath caught in her throat, before her fingers curled tightly beneath the table. She lifted her gaze and met Cerdery's eyes head-on, refusing to show the shame that threatened to rise, refusing to retreat from the accusation hurled so carelessly at her.
"The Lord is a kind man," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. "Plaything and words like that are not true."
"I know it isn't true," Cerdery replied with a light chuckle, as if humoring a child. "But will others see it the same way you do? Or even the way I do?" She tilted her head slightly. "All they know is that he bought you, brought you into this gilded hall, and allowed you to live as though you were born a noble, without lifting a finger. Don't you ever question what kind of relationship you truly have with Hades?"
What kind of relationship?
