Dangerous game

Third person's POV

Actually, it was a silly imagination.

Rose was still at the door, holding the coffee with an annoyed look.

She shook out of the thought and heaved a heavy sigh. No matter how satisfying it would feel to dump that coffee on Warren Wellesley's expensive suit, she knew better. She quietly walked out of the room, the rejected coffee still steaming in her hand.

"There you are," Sarah's voice came from down the hallway. She approached quickly, then stopped when she caught sight of the coffee in Rose's hand.

"Oh no."

"What?" Rose asked, feeling defensive already.

Sarah sighed in exasperation.

"Did you forget what I taught you yesterday? Mr. Wellesley doesn't like cinnamon in his coffee. He hates that particular scent."

Rose gasped.

"But I thought... didn't you say he liked cinnamon?" She asked, her eyes widely opened.

"No," Sarah said firmly.