She is furious at both herself and the Light-blasted cook for this humiliation. She grinds her teeth with both pain and anger as her punishment is carried out. She takes the switching with a minimal amount struggling, eager to get this over with and be ejected from inn as soon as possible. Fools! They will all pay once the Great Lord ascends to his rightful glory. Xanthe contents herself with thinking of all the ways she'd like to kill the cook, each stroke of the willow branch adding another hour of agony to the woman's eternal torment... pity she hadn't drunk any of the wine.