Chapter One

She stood in the market, pulling her cloak close about her while she watched the crowds rush by. The wind whipped by, the bite in the air reminding her that winter was around the corner. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. This was one of her few free moments, the time she was allowed to visit the markets on the outskirts of Hayll, and she wanted to enjoy it before she had to go back home - back to her husband, back to the life of unpleasant reminders of just how precarious her position in life was. Terrah went largely unnoticed as she started walking through the crowd, slowly and deliberately making her way through the market square. The hood of her cloak was up, covering her curly black hair and casting her face into shadows, making it hard to see quite who she was at a quick glance. She had the golden eyes and warm brown skin of the Hayllian people, which made her generally indistinguishable from the population at large. However, her fine dress and her small stature made her stand out. Some mistook her for an unaccompanied young lady, offering her help before taking a glance at her and murmuring apologies to Lady Terrah.

She hated being called Lady Terrah. She hadn't made her Offering to the Darkness yet, despite being 21 years of age, and she felt that the title Lady was reserved for queens, priestesses, and those of higher rank. She hadn't earned the title - but being married to Byren SaDiablo, one of Dorothea's most trusted Warlord Princes, had all sorts of people giving her all sorts of titles. Not only was Byren one of Dorothea's Warlord Princes, but he was also allegedly a cousin of the High Priestess. Dorothea had known Terrah's family, and after her parents died in what had been called a "freak accident", she took interest in the young woman, brought her into her household, and ended up marrying her off to Byren after a few years.

Terrah shuddered at the thought of Byren. She thought him handsome and charming when they first met, and was flustered and flattered by the attention he showered on her. Jewels, fine dinners in the best restaurants of Draega, nights at the theater... but after knowing him for a time, she learned he was as rotten as his "cousin". She didn't love him. She feared him. She obeyed him, for her own sake. If it weren't for him, she would have ended up at the slave auctions, and had a much worse life than she had now, or so Byren reminded her constantly. They'd been married for six years now - and it felt like an eternity.

She let out a sigh and moved towards an open market stall that sold spices and cooking goods. She rattled off a list of what she needed to the man running the stall, then drifted off into her own thoughts again. Byren was hopefully going to be tolerable today. He'd just come back from the Raej slave fairs, where he had picked up a few new slaves for Dorothea, and she'd highly praised him for his choices. That man lived to please Dorothea, and that unsettled Terrah. She didn't trust Dorothea as far as she could throw her, to be honest. She always seemed to be… plotting something, that was the only way she could describe it. And she was always with the High Priestess of Hell, Hekatah. Hekatah was someone Terrah avoided whenever she could.

"Ma'am, your purchases," the man running the spice stall said, and Terrah jumped.

"Thank you," she said quietly, and placed the bundle of herbs and spices in her basket. Her shopping was finished, and that meant she had to return home. Byren would always find out, somehow, if she'd lingered somewhere while she was out shopping. He had eyes all over Draega, she knew. She headed away from the market and back to their small house, closer to the edge of city. Terrah always wondered why Byren lived with no servants, and in such a small house, if he was truly so close to Dorothea. Granted, they were always dressed nicely enough, so people generally thought they lived much like Dorothea did, but hardly anyone knew that the small grey town house, placed between two apartment buildings, was where Byren and Terrah called home. They lived comfortably enough, and had a cook who would come and prepare their meals, as well as a maid who would occasionally come and clean… but it wasn't the life she wanted. That always seemed to be a sore spot with Byren – he thought that he should be on the same level as Dorothea. He was a Gray jeweled Warlord Prince, after all. But something held Dorothea back from treating him the way a man of his rank should be treated… Terrah believed it was because there was something wild, something uncontrollable about Byren. Granted, all Warlord Princes were ferocious, and had tempers, but there was something that seemed… broken… about Byren. Something that let the rage and ferocity that Warlord Princes had run loose. She shivered at the thought of that and hurried home, so she would avoid the wrath of her husband.

Byren sat in his study, savoring a glass of red wine. He was glad that Dorothea approved of the 'toys' he bought for her, but it wasn't quite enough to show the High Priestess of Hayll that he was worthy enough to be considered a part of her First Circle. Oh, he did about as much for her as the rest of her First Circle did, but all she did was smile and nod and thank him. Pile extravagant clothes on him, so he wouldn't be an embarrassment to his cousin. Give him a timid bitch of a wife, who shrank from him at every corner. He deserved better. His life wasn't easy, and he deserved a break. No, he deserved better.

He heard the door downstairs open and close. Since the cook was already here, working to prepare his dinner, it must be his wife, coming back from the market. He took another sip of wine. Dorothea seemed adamant for some reason that Terrah not be allowed to make her offering to the darkness. Byren didn't see why. He was amazed that she'd managed to get birthright Opal- the girl was nothing. She had no power, no strength. She barely even used craft, probably because she was too dumb to get anything right. Good thing, too- if she'd shown any sign of power, he'd have to break her. Terrah was much more valuable to him whole, and more valuable to Dorothea as well.

"Byren, are you home?" Terrah called out as she made her way up the stairs.

He set his glass down and muttered to himself. Of course she knew he was home, why the hell did she bother asking? "Yes," he replied simply, biting back a smart answer.

"I got the herbs you requested to be used with the week's meals," Terrah said as she entered Byren's study, "and I also picked up the parchment paper you asked for." She handed him a neat stack of paper with a length of twine tied around it, to keep the papers from shifting too much. He waved her away.

"Set it on the desk." He reached for his wine glass again. "I take it you listened to me and did not speak to anyone besides the shopkeepers while you were out?" His golden gaze locked onto hers for a moment before she turned away, unable to look him in the eyes for long. Terrah got chills when he looked at her like that for too long.

"No, husband, I did not talk to anyone besides the shopkeepers." It wasn't like she had any friends anyway, she thought to herself. Her husband took care of that.

"You know that I'll find out if you're lying to me," he said softly. She stayed quiet. If she spoke out, he would lash out and hit her, or use his Jewels against her. Terrah simply stood still and looked at the floor.

'Timid little bitch,' Byren thought to himself. The way she stared at the floor, she simply had to be hiding something. He stood up and stepped towards her. Byren was an intimidating figure- he was nearly six and a half feet tall, with short, greasy black hair and piercing golden eyes. His skin was golden brown, as with all Hayllians. When he stood in front of Terrah, she looked up at him and trembled. He was at least a foot and a half taller than she was, and was quite muscular. She was constantly afraid that some day he'd just snap, and end up killing her.

"You're too quiet, wife," he said. "Quiet and suspicious."

"I did nothing, my husband," she replied. "I swear."

Byren's only response was a swift slap to Terrah's left cheek, which sent her reeling. She knew better than to cry out.

"Next time you'll learn to keep eye contact, woman," he said and stalked out of the room. Terrah simply stood where she was, fighting the tears that always came after he hit her without warning like that. She hated how things were in Hayll – men weren't supposed to be the dominant species. They were supposed to serve and protect. She seriously doubted serve and protect were in Byren's vocabulary.

"I wish I could go someplace different, someplace far away from here…" she whispered to herself.