Shelley doesn't snap immediately. She almost feels satisfaction at finally getting a real response out of someone here.

"You'd die if you did that, anyway, having been ordered to watch me," she points out lightly. "I know that much. When I said I don't trust you, I mean anyone. Nobody will acknowledge it when I try to point out that I didn't consent to be brought here. So my proper role? Would really be stuck in a dungeon somewhere, or, or - here's a novel thought! - in my home. But no, I get to live with a man who claims to love me and tortures me by turns, and then to be kidnapped because of that and hurt more for what I might know and Compelled into loving Graendal, and then have servants call me their mistress but treat me like anything but and where in this is anything that says I have a proper role?!"

Her voice rises as she speaks into almost a shriek.