She was an image: hands on her hips, frustrated and maternal and scolding him. Noche couldn't help but laugh, then stood up with a smirk and stepped toward her. Towered over her.
"No? And are you willing to step into his place, Flora? He is mine." And almost as an afterthought he added, "And so are you. But I didn't come here to carry you off over my shoulder, stupid woman. So you might as well talk to me."