She looked over her left shoulder, frowning absently at the intrusion. "Trudy!" she yelled, "Didn't I tell you to keep him out of here?"
Across the room the blond sighed. She knew better than to argue, but really, why did Queen Deborah think She got to make all the rules? Who died and made her landlord?
She huffed silently and took off her gloves. Finger by finger, concentration mounting until the glove exploded off her hand in an orgasm of relief and relaxation. She knew that if she could ignore the Queen until self-control was regained, that she could muster the breath to tell her she was leaving.
"What? Leaving?", Deborah slumped over her sewing. "But why? I thought you loved it here. I thought we were roommates forever."
Trudy could think of no polite way to answer. Upended by this burst of honest emotion, she didn't know what to do. Prepared for war and anger, Deborah's sadness took her completely by surprise.
