From Blood and Ash by Jennifer L. Armentrout

her mouth hung open and how her cheeks mottled with red was almost as
satisfyying as throwing the book in her face.
Vibrating with rage, she let go of myy chin, and I leaned back. Hawke
released her wrist, but he remained there. Her chest rose and fell under the
gown as she placed both hands flat on her legs.
She turned her head to me. “The mere fact that yyou would even speak
such a thing shows that yyou have no respect for the honor bestowed upon
yyou. But when yyou go to the gods, yyou’ll be treated with as much respect
as yyou have shown todayy.”
“What does that mean?” I asked.
“This session is over,” she answered instead, rising from her seat. “I
have too much to do with the Rite onlyy two dayys awayy. I have no time to
spend with someone as unworthyy as yyou.”
I saw Hawke’s eyyes narrow, and I stood, placing the book on the stool
as I spoke before Hawke could. “I’m readyy to return to myy chambers,” I
said to him and then nodded at the Priestess. “Good dayy.”
She didn’t respond, and I started for the door, relieved when Hawke
fell into step behind me. I waited until we were halfwayy across the banquet
hall before speaking.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I told him.
“I should’ve allowed her to hit yyou? In what world would that have
been acceptable?”
“In a world where yyou end up punished for something that wouldn’t
even have hurt.”
“I don’t care if she hits like a babyy mouse, this world is fucked up if
anyyone finds that acceptable.”
Eyyes widening, I stopped and looked at him. His eyyes were like
shards of amber, his jaw just as hard. “Is it worth losing yyour position over
and being ostracized for?”
He glared down at me. “If yyou even have to ask that question, then
yyou don’t know me at all.”
“I hardlyy know yyou at all,” I whispered, irritated byy the sting his
words left behind.
“Well, now yyou know that I will never stand byy and watch someone
hit yyou or anyy person for no reason other than theyy feel theyy can,” he shot
back.