Ueath pulls the red doors open somewhat forcefully, his brow still furrowed. He walks purposefully down the checked and black hallway, stopping in the direct middle and turning to the wall. He knocks twice, then kicks it, opening a hidden door.
He goes through the doorway, entering a completely white kitchen with a few chefs (also dressed in white) preparing dishes for the guests in the other room. Each chef has a bruise somewhere on their face (presumably from Alutia), and as the camera pans around, Ueath's face is revealed to have the same bruises (now visible under the bright lights). Ueath's black suit contrasts against the color of the kitchen, causing him to stand out.
Ueath, firmly, almost threateningly: Alutia needs tea.
The chefs quickly nod and set to work as Ueath stands with his hands behind his back. After a few seconds, a chef runs to him and hands him a cup of tea.
Ueath, sarcastically: Thank you.
Ueath walks quickly out of the room, the door slamming behind him. He holds the teacup up to his mouth as he walks, as though he's about to drink it. But he suddenly pulls it away and spits in it with a smirk. He reaches the other side of the hallway, pulling the black doors open and heading into the guestroom before him.
Alutia, as he enters: UEATH! WHERE'S MY TEA?!
Ueath, plastering a pitiful look on his face as he goes to her: It's right here, your Highness.
Alutia, loftily: Come, bring it to me, then.
Ueath speed-walks to Alutia's throne, stepping over the worshippers yet again. He hands her the teacup with a somewhat forced smile.
Ueath,: Will that be all?
Alutia: Yes. Pause. NOW GET OUT!
Ueath: Shall I just leave the broken plates?
Alutia: I said OUT, I WANT YOU OUT!
Ueath, nodding as his forced smile turns to a smirk: As you wish. He turns and walks back to the tables lining the walls, gathering another stack of plates. He takes them back down the hallway and into the kitchen.
Chef 1: Does Alutia need anything else?
Ueath, distractedly: No. No, she's fine.
Ueath sets the plates on a counter feverishly, his dark eyes wide and somewhat panicked. He takes a plate from the top of the stack and breaks it against the counter, closing his eyes somewhat peacefully as it shatters. Ueath sighs shakily, wringing his hands nervously. With an unsteady arm, he rubs his hands through his hair as a sound like a growl builds in his chest.
Then he releases a loud, desperate, haunting scream and clenches his fists, bringing them down onto the counter, cracking it.
Ueath, his voice rumbling, threatening, and violent: I'VE HAD IT!