[ Alice's eyes drift to the washcloth and then back to him. She had kept her calm (a little too much, perhaps) through this until now. A look of fury appears on her face as Alice stalks over to him. She does not take the washcloth quite yet, instead, with her free hand, Alice points a finger, keeping herself from laying a hand on him. For now. She keeps her voice low, as it is an icy anger that overcomes her. ]

I've asked you to take her for the evening.

[ This man did so much to her, he sent her away to the asylum for ten years, and tried once more to dictate her life. Just the idea of anyone instructing Alice to do anything will send her into a rage. ]

This is my mess and it was my choice. You will not tell me where to go and what to do. No one will anymore, do you hear me? It's a simple request, Sion.

[ She, naturally, won't allow him to touch her. As soon as Alice comes close to striking him, she turns on a heel, her hair spinning with her as she takes the time to clean her face. ]