Rosemund sighed with relief and simply didn't care if Aire heard her. [i]Works every time,[/i] she thought victoriously. She would have to be sure to keep that in her arsenal and only let the brawling get too intense about once a month. (If people suspected her cycle was irregular, she feared that it would raise questions.) She half-listened to the heir's order, waited until he was gone, and let a wildly smug smile spread across her freckly face. She couldn't help being proud of herself for that clever save. 

Reluctantly she returned to the windows, going at exactly the same pace and care she'd done before Aire had arrived. She didn't see any of the spots he'd mentioned, and now that she thought about it a little, Rosemund even felt a little insulted that he dared criticize her work like that. It wasn't as if he didn't have the right, of course, but she'd have liked to watch [i]him[/i] climb up a rickety, splintery wooden ladder with a vicious bruise and clean the damn windows! 

She stopped herself from thinking like that. It was never going to happen and that was that and it was perfectly fine.