Hey.

Noeul's voice dropped low. His usually calm eyes were cold and sunken.

The order slip clearly says Toffee Nut 'Frappe.' Not a Toffee Nut Iced Latte.

Are you kidding me right now?

He gave the cup on the counter a sharp flick with his finger. The light brown liquid sloshed, and the sound of clinking ice echoed.

Is this a frappe? Huh? Is it?

Why is there the sound of ice clinking in a frappe!!

His voice began to rise steadily.

If you just throw ice into a drink, that's just an iced drink. Is that a frappe?

Right now, I don't want to grind ice—I want to grind some sense into that head of yours.