Lauren tilted her head slightly, one brow arched, her lips drawn in a subtle, unreadable line. Not amused. Not angry. Just off.
She didn't react the way Marc expected.
No tension pulled her jaw tight. No defiance sparked in her eyes. No weary submission. Just… a strange look.
Marc, who had seen every manner of response in rooms like this—rage, desperation, fake diplomacy—was momentarily thrown off. His smirk faltered ever so slightly. His eyes narrowed, not in threat, but in curiosity.
What in the world is that expression?
He leaned forward just a little, elbows on knees again, studying her like a child observing a puzzle that didn't make sense.
Then Lauren finally broke the silence.
"I'm not a princess."
Her tone was simple. Straightforward. Unbothered.
Marc blinked. Twice. The silence that followed dragged out longer than anyone in the room anticipated.
A blink of disbelief. Another mild insult.
