Nicnevin was pleased with her new knight. It gave her more pleasure than she cared to admit to see him suffering as she slowly plucked him of his dignity. He flinched at every scream, his heart sank at every desperate plea for mercy, and still she commanded him to be more terrible in her name. The look in his eyes was incentive enough. She watched him become guarded, his manner grew more calculated each day, but she still saw the hatred burning in his eyes. Yes, Nicnevin was pleased with her new knight.

Roiben entered into the great chamber of the Night Court and knelt before her.

"I have completed the task you set me, my Lady."

"Roiben," a slow smile spread over her lips but her eyes conveyed nothing. "We were not expecting you for some time. Have you dealt with the matter so quickly? Your brutality is becoming most efficient."

"Perhaps you would prefer it slower?" He challenged.

"Not at all," she said, her voice full of amusement. "We can always find more tasks for your attention, should you tire of your other duties so quickly."

Roiben said nothing and let Nicnevin have her small victory over him. She knew that he would drag his feet to avoid more spilled blood, and he knew that she would toy with him before forcing his hand.

"You are in good time," she continued, "your counterpart has returned with a message from Silarial."

Nephamael was standing behind Nicnevin in the spot that Roiben was supposed to occupy. With a wave of her hand Roiben rose and improvised, standing instead on her left. Nephamael took a step forward and addressed Nicnevin without bowing to her.

"My Lady," his smile was cruel at best. "Silarial wishes to extend her gratitude in your joint efforts to make peace between the Bright and the Night Courts."

He paused.

"Yes?" Her impatience made the room suddenly cold.

Nephamael moved in closer, towering above Nicnevin on her throne. In a flash her eyes seemed dangerous but then it was gone.

"She extends more pleasantries and pointless posturing but I believe her motive is focused on your new knight." Roiben's stomach leapt at the thought of his Queen's interest in his wellbeing. "I would wager she thinks he might make a useful spy."

Roiben couldn't see Nicnevin's face but her sharp burst of laughter told him just how impossible she thought that was.

"Roiben," he stepped forward until he mirrored Nephamael. "Does it please you to think that your Lady still requires your services?"

A faerie cannot speak an untruth.

"Yes."

The chamber erupted into wild laughter, Nicnevin's eyes grew fierce and wild.

"Would you do anything for your old queen?"

"I am bound to your service now."

Nicnevin's lips curled. "And this pleases me almost as much as your attempts to bend the truth," she turned to address Nephamael, "but I am growing tired of word games. Tell me Nephamael, how do the subjects of the Bright Court amuse themselves?"

"They gorge themselves on cakes and fruit, braid flowers into stolen children's hair and dance like fools." His tongue snaked out of his mouth to lick his lips. "And they indulge themselves in physical pleasures."

"Such dull activities. You have grown used to them?"

"Oh yes, though there is barely enough screaming to make anything worthwhile…"

Roiben had heard about Nephamael's unusual tastes. It was not uncommon among the fey to choose male lovers, or uncommon among the subjects of the Night Court to torture for fun; but Nephamael enjoyed them both at once. He had experienced the other mans advances personally and felt a cold dread as he remembered Nephamael's hand on the small of his back, just months before when he had been on his knees keeping Nicnevin's wine steady on his back.

"Maybe that is what is lacking from my court. Roiben!"

Jolting out of his thoughts he was sure Nicnevin had noticed his flinch but she made nothing of it. She stood from her throne and moved impossibly close to him.

"You are a competent knight," she smirked, "and prettier than some it is true. Let us see if you can entertain me in the ways of the Seelie Court. Dance."

Roiben looked at her for a moment unsure of what to do before he placed his hand on her waist and held her other hand in his. To the tune of his own mind he slowly began to dance with her, spinning them this way and that. Being this impossibly close to Nicnevin he could see every twitch of her lips. She leant back as Roiben span her and he caught her gracefully, tilting her gently before pulling her body back against his.

"A skilled performance!" Nephamael beamed at them.

"Most entertaining." Nicnevin breathed against Roiben's ear. He felt a shiver down his spine but remained perfectly still, holding her in his arms. "Perhaps you would like to try him, Nephamael?"

The other mans eyes sparkled as he made his way towards Roiben. He offered his hand as a gentleman might to cut in with a lady, and after a sharp look from Nicnevin he accepted. Nephamael pulled him unexpectedly hard so that Roiben fell against him, unable to keep his balance. Nephamael's arm encircled his waist and he took his hand, moving them slowly and deliberately across the stone floor.

Roiben could feel Nephamael's muscles against his stomach and chest and tried to fix his gaze on the far corner of the room. He would not give Nephamael or Nicnevin the pleasure of seeing his discomfort. Roiben had always enjoyed dancing in the Seelie Court, but he had suddenly lost his passion for it.

Just as Nephamael was leaning into Roiben's chest and pressing their cheeks together with a sly grin, Nicnevin cut in. Roiben twisted her arm above her head to make her spin and he thought for a moment he saw a flash of laughter in her eyes.

Suddenly she stopped them in the middle of the floor, her features had turned cold with anger. She reached for the back of his head and balling his dark silky hair in her hand she pulled him forward with a jerk and bit into his bottom lip with her teeth, just hard enough to make him bleed. He resisted the urge to fight back but couldn't stop a sharp intake of breath as she pulled away. She stared at him and licked the blood from her lips and teeth. He was sure that her eyes had turned dark red.

Nephamael looked from Nicnevin to Roiben with a lustful expression. Nicnevin turned to him, her voice heavy with anger. Roiben stood perfectly still and let the blood flow from his lip. She had not intended to enjoy herself and was punishing him for it.

"Would you like to indulge?" She offered Nephamael, truly smiling for the first time Roiben had ever seen. His stomach felt like iron, burning him from the inside out like fiery dread; he knew just how Nephamael liked to indulge himself. The other man moved towards him like a predator.

"Thank you my Lady, they are always sweeter once they are frightened."

With that he went in for the kill, grabbing Roiben by the throat suddenly and then pressing their bodies together slowly, deliberately. He was looking deep into Roiben's eyes. Roiben tried desperately to think of other things, of his true Queen and her astonishing beauty, of all the blood he had spilled during his short time in the Unseelie Court, counting one by one the deaths he had played a part in. Nephamael's body was like hot metal against him.

"Such a pretty gift..."

Nephamael pressed his lips against Roiben's and he forced himself to keep completely still as his own blood coated his lips. Nephamael's iron circlet grazed his forehead and made him gasp in shock. Laughter burst against Roiben's mouth; either Nephamael was enjoying his pain, his humiliation, or was deluded to think that Roiben had gasped in pleasure. The next time the circlet touched his face he didn't even blink, but the stench of the metal and Nephamael's bloody lips against his almost made him gag. With a forceful twist Roiben's mouth was prized open and Nephamael held him tighter, trying to force his tongue deep down his throat. Now he really was going to be sick. His stomach churned with dread and iron sickness and disbelief. He could feel all the muscles of Nephamael's chest and abdomen against his own, and then he felt something hard against his hip and pushed Nephamael to the ground in panic. His face must have been a picture of disgust because Nicnevin cackled like she had gone mad and clapped her appreciation.

"That was certainly most entertaining!"

Nephamael looked less than pleased and had risen to his feet ready to force Roiben to his will, but Nicnevin had begun ordering servants and courtiers to pack up the remnants of the earlier festivities.

"What a delicious way to end my night."

Roiben closed the door to his rooms and had to restrain himself from breaking the door off the hinges. He had never been so angry, never felt so much despair, and never feared the task ahead of him as much as he feared Nicnevin's plans for the following evening. He sat for a long time in a battered armchair trying to think of other more horrible things he had endured, but nothing compared. Instead he took to bathing his wounds and swilling the blood from his mouth, along with the memory of Nephamael's tongue. Once he felt clean enough he sank down into a comfy old armchair and picked up an ironside book, Oscar Wilde's Picture of Dorian Gray, pondering the old and beaten cover. He wondered bitterly if somewhere there might be another Roiben he was enduring all the pain for.