Even though the Fae Queen was sure that Dorian had been reckless the night before, she was content to drop it with the reassurance that Dorian truly believed that his life had not been in danger. She was nervous, still, that something would happen to him. But still, the girl offered no more argument, content that her command to stay indoors after dark would hold some weight with him. She hardly expected that it would be the end of the argument or that he would obey, rather the girl hoped that he would at least consider her feelings, hoping that he would realize the danger that they were under... with those girls looking for Samantha... with his own association with her. They were not safe.

Still, the woman hardly had time to process that information before she was effectively marched downstairs, the fae girl grumbling even despite being told to speak with her eyes. The daggers she was imaging flying through Dorian's head at the request went unnoticed by him â€" probably for the best â€" as she went to stand in front of him in the kitchen. Having only just woken from her slumber at Dorian's entrance into the room, she was sure she looked a mess. Dressed in her pajamas â€" the shorts of which were too short â€" and a tank top, she was sure that Dorian would be commenting on the state of her dress. Not to mention her hair, which was tangled in knots around her face. Still, it wasn't that that he was bothered by, rather than the motion of her nervous habit and the nails she chewed on.

"What?" The girl jumped at the sound of her name, the outrage that he spoke of causing her to jump in surprise. It was enough then, to catch her off guard as he grabbed her hand within his. She attempted to pull her hand back, the girl rather surprised by the strength of his grip on her arm. "Dori..." She mumbled, watching as he pulled out the... nail file? â€" where on earth did he get that? â€" from his pocket. She allowed him to file her nail â€" though she doubted she could have pulled away if she wanted to â€" a questioning look on her features at the sudden manicure. It was only his insistence that bitten nails would make a difference to Aiden did she laugh. "I would bet you all the money I have that Aiden does not, in fact, notice the state of my nails."

Still, she made no other effort to dispute his claim, instead choosing to distract him at the notion that she should choose to work on her standing. That any of this would choose to be important in the future, she was sure that Dorian was wrong in that aspect. "I'm an American girl," She muttered, running a hand through her hair at the notion that her posture wasn't terrible. "Be lucky I don't slouch like this." She didn't get a chance to move, his hands on her shoulders pushing them back and down. It was an awkward angle, one that felt unnatural, and yet she didn't move away. Her eyes caught his briefly as her chin was angled slightly up. "This makes me feel like a snob," She muttered, though she still listened as he spoke.

Commanding of a room? That, she was sure, was something she would never be able to do. "Easy for you to say," Samantha sighed, offering him a shrug before she went back to the position that he had maneuvered her body into. "No one, I'm sure, has ever laughed at you when you announce your position." That people seemed to underestimate her immediately made her frown, though she was willing to try his idea of walking as she was prompted. "Okay, like a queen. I can do that. Yeah..." The small bout of self-encouragement was sure to be mocked by her companion, though she was sure that if he tried she would douse him in glitter for his mockery.

She moved forward, finding the posture rather stiff and unnatural. Her head held high caused her to be unable to look at her feet â€" as she typically did when she walked â€" and it was only a few steps forward before she tripped against the edge of the run, sending herself sprawling to the carpet. The rug burn she got on her knees was hardly concerning at the moment, the woman rather content to crack up laughing as she rolled herself over, looking up at her teacher from her butt on the rug. "I suppose that was not what you meant by commanding a room's attention, no?" She said with a teasing tone, clearly not bothered by the act of falling. "Though, I do believe that would be effective, no?"