PROLOGUE

In the wee hours of the morning, a willowy young woman crept down the spiraling staircase leading to her room with the grace of a prime feline. Her dark hair fell past her waist, a lustrous ebony tide which seemed to have a life of its own. Clad only in a thin nightgown, she hugged her arms to herself as she continued to descend.

She skipped the last few steps at the bottom, landing lightly. As she neared the heavy wooden door leading to the outside world, she began to sing under her breath a song to celebrate the morning. She loved the nippiness of fresh air; it invigorated her and prepared her for the day ahead.

A smart rap on the door halted her, mid-melody. She clasped the door handle, long, thin fingers wrapping easily around the iron. Her skin was pale, almost deathly so, against the rusting metal handle.

Once she cracked the door open, she considered closing it and pretending she'd never heard the knock. Too late.

"Hello, Morrigan" A tall man, fully dressed with mousy brown hair pushed past the woman, inviting himself into her hallway.

She'd been named after the battle maiden of lore, rather fitting since she was deadly with a sword and even more fatal with her bare hands. Morrigan shut the door behind him, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Pauling, what are you doing here?"

He turned to her, hazel eyes glittering with an emotion she didn't like. He raised an eyebrow, drinking in her appearance. Morrigan wished she was wearing more clothes; his eyes had the steeliness of a sword, and cut away her clothing as such. But she wouldn't let him see her unnerved.

"I'll ask again. Pauling, what are you –" She was cut off when he abruptly darted forward, pinning her against the wall. He had his mouth on hers, hips pushing against her own. She dropped straight down, ducking out from his loose hold and sunk her fingers into the collar of his tunic.

"I am a powerful man," said Pauling, eyes narrowed at the woman who held him.

"You're a crooked man," she hissed, kneeing him in the stomach and releasing him. He fell back, then lunged forward to grab her legs. Morrigan heard him cry out and release his hold on her ankle as she shattered his nose. With another blow to the head, Pauling was left unconscious on the floor.

Morrigan sat down on the bottom step of her staircase, eyes fixed on the King of Iliath's right hand man and friend since childhood. Well, this was a way to start the day. She rose to her feet and returned to her room to change into more suitable clothing. Her nightgown was sprayed with droplets of Pauling's blood – disgusting. Breeches and tunic on, she tottered downstairs to fix herself some breakfast. The King's advisor lay in a bloody, broken heap on her floor.

There had to be more women he'd tried to dominate, she thought to herself, noise of chewing filling her head. Well, serves him right for …for what he was trying to do to me. He deserved to die. A more rational voice in her head said in a small voice, Morrigan, don't you think you might have overreacted? You didn't have to kill him. You could have simply knocked him out and taken him to the court.

"Shut up," she growled, throwing half of her bread roll into the garbage and leaving the kitchen. "It's too early for ethical discussions."

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"Enter."

Morrigan slipped into the King's study, face smoothed over. The King's face was not so blank; on the contrary, he looked homocidal. That'll get him in trouble one day, she thought to herself dryly. He gives away his emotions too easily.

She nodded her head in acknowledgment, but refused the chair King Deitrich gestured to. "Your Majesty."

"I have received word that Lord Pauling has been murdered," said King Deitrich, a note of grief creeping into his raspy voice.

"No!" gasped Morrigan in mock horror. Deitrich raised his eyes skyward.

"I am not in the mood for games, Morrigan," he said curtly. "I know you did it."

"Of course, Majesty," she said seriously. "His body was found, after all, in my tower."

Deitrich gazed at her levelly. "Why?"

Morrigan smoothed out a wrinkle in her breeches. "You wouldn't believe me."

"I hardly think it's your place to judge whether or not I'd believe you."

She shrugged. "Alright then. Lord Pauling knocked on my door two days ago, shoved his way in, and proceeded to force himself upon me. When I protested, he continued his attempt to rape me, so I broke his nose to quiet him and then killed him."

"I know – knew ­– Pauling. He would never do something like that," said the middle-aged King. "He was a tremendous asset to Iliath while alive –"

"Yes, yes," drawled Morrigan. "Speaking of assets, he also valued those of certain females –"

"Silence!" shouted Deitrich, a vein throbbing at his temple. Morrigan looked at him in disdain. He really needed to learn some self-control. "Killing the King's advisor is unacceptable. I am exiling you from Iliath."

Morrigan turned towards the door. "Fine. I have no desire to continue residence in a realm ruled by such a blind man."

He started to say something, but she shut the door, cutting him off.

Outside the study, a friend of Morrigan's, Linus Terrade accosted her.

"Morri, what did he say?" His green eyes were filled with concern.

"Not much," she replied as they strode towards the exit. "He did exile me from the realm, though."

Linus stopped mid-step, grabbing Morrigan by the arm and whirling her around to face him. "Morrigan!"

"Linus!" she teased.

He stared at her for a long moment, and his eyes darkened. "Where will you go?" he said quietly.

"Anywhere but here," she replied. "I'm perfectly capable of defending myself, you know. I'll take my horse and end up somewhere. Keeping a low profile, of course."

Linus looked most somber. "When you get settled, send me word, alright? I'll come visit you."

Morrigan smiled at her friend. "Will do." Hugging him fiercely, she added, "I'll miss you in the meantime."

His face was very close to hers as he whispered, "I'll miss you, too." Linus gazed at her intently, as though trying to memorize her face. A shiver went down her spine as she saw an odd expression take over his face. She backed away hastily.

"Goodbye, then!" called Morrigan as she set off to pack her things. Running a hand through his brown hair in frustration, Linus watched her go.