disguisethemselves

“Mean people don’t bother me,” she rinsed her hands, flicking away the water before patting them dry on the front of her dress. “What bothers me are the ones that disguise themselves as nice.”

She glared across the room at the man leering at the injured men scattered across the temple she had turned into a makeshift infirmary. He pretended to care but would have order them all executed so not to waste his time if she wasn’t there to intervene.