A shudder crawled up my arms and I suppressed the intense shiver I felt. She was obeying my every command, and she couldn't do otherwise unless I commanded her to. Was it due to that sensation I felt?
But how? And could I use something like this on Lord Fashire?
My palms began to sweat as I clasped my wrist. I spoke up, my voice a little unsteady at first, "If… if you leave to wash your face, what excuse will you tell anyone passing—"
"I will… clean the mess first," Edna said in a shaky voice. Her shoulders were hunched over, defeated.
"Alright…" I said in return.
I stood still suddenly feeling guilty. I was initially curious, and with a small portion of that curiosity satisfied, I not only had even more questions, but I felt so horrible. No matter how badly she had treated me, I didn't want to see the fearful expression on Edna's face anymore. She looked so pitiful and it was beginning to sicken me. I wasn't comfortable with it.
