Speech = ...
Thoughts [...]
ºº
The sun was shining bright, and the wind blew a gentle breeze on what otherwise would have been a warm yet tedious day of summer.
In a day like this Dakuikan would spent it basking in the afterglow of a profitable deal with a bottle of wine at his side as he watched the sun set from the comfort of his desk, away from the tedious rustling of papers and taxes from his many " deals" around the kingdom.
However, this time was not one of those as his attention was begrudgingly focused on the presence of a man wearing a black cowl to hide his features from his weary eyes.
His lips curled into a faint grimace of mild distaste though he made well in hiding it as he crossed his hands behind his back, his head held up high just at the same time his eyes bared down on his opposite who laid a few steps down the stairs leading to his desk.
You are still here…? I thought you would have left by now..
He said apologetic, almost bored by it. And though they were hidden from view, he could tell the mans eyes were twitching. Not pleased at all.
Well, it wasn't like he would have been pleased either in his place though.
I wont leave without accomplishing my task or receiving a better answer.. The man barked.
Once more the same short and boring answer.
Once more to deal with a stubborn man.
If only it could have been just any other day….than this one. Sadly, business did not work like that, or ever.
I see…., a man of conviction if there was one He said cheerfully, hoping to elate a fake laugh in return, sadly, he got nothing but silent judgment.
[Tough crowd...eh?] Well, it didn't really mater, did it? However, what about the offer..? Any changes to it..?
The thunderous sound of a boot stomping on the ground answered him faster than any word that came out soon after.
Is still the same…
The words were spatted back at his face with venomous intent.
With a practiced sigh, Dakuikan shook his head, more bothered by the waste of his precious time in this dealings than the need to try pretend an air of courtesy.
Then I am afraid that I cant abide by such terms..
What…!?
He shook his head, a gentle thing. Its nothing personal, it just doesn't interest us at this present moment what is currently on offer..
He explained curtly while he stroked his trimmed beard with one hand. However that did not seemed to be of much help as the man was now visibly trembling, a gloved hand pointing an accusatory finger at him like a peasant would to a witch.
For some reason it reminded him of his daughters narcissistic antics…
Useless and pathetic..
The noise worse than its bite and far less amusing to witness...
You...you would dare make an enemy of the cult on a whim? I heard you were bold, not mad…!
A frown started to replace the gentle mask of the " loving father" he used to wear to those who were not very aware of what he was. The desire to have the man whipped to an inch of his life endearing the most sadistic of thoughts, however….it was one that he could not entertain.
[Children these days….always so quick to spurt nonsense] I did not say that, boy...I meant that as things stands now there is nothing for us to benefit from it.., it would just be a waste
He answered simply as he started to move towards his desk, pulling the chair back yet not taking a seat, but rather leaning softly over the leathery frame of it with one arm before he glared the man again.
Unless you get what you want…whatever it may be is that right..? The cultist spatted, the words seemingly tasting vile in his mouth.
At least he did not choose to spit down at those expensive silky carpets underneath them. That would have been a mistake.
A regrettable one….
What we want.., but correct on the most part though...
Dakuikan said dryly as he took his seat at last, the chair creaking slightly at the presence of his weight, his eyes never leaving his " guest".
If he was gonna deal with maniacs he preferred doing it comfortable. His old bones appreciated it too.
Madness, you still have a contract with us...you are obliged to accept anything we say..
Dakuikan rose an eyebrow. A contract? Yes, there was one… however and sadly for you that was with the ones that were keeping shop in Midgard….
That still doesn't c-
Surely you don't think we have not come to realize that they are gone now…, what deals and pacts were made with them died with them He cut the man off A terrible loss to be sure...but not one I am losing sleep over with..
How can you describe the situation so casually..?
He ignored the mans unnecessary need of useless commentary or shock by slamming a hand against the table.
Now, if you want the 13 Night Swords to facilitate you...and your Lord-ling He punted the tittle with as much distaste as possible In filling the void your fellow cultist left behind unattended you will have to make another deal….
An insidious sneer cracked what had once been an incredulous look on the cultist face.
And these…. are what my fellows and I have agreed should be paid for our… " contribution" to the cults great cause.. He said, pulling out a sheet of paper from one of his drawers and presenting it to the man. Here, I brought a pen..
Preposterous...who do you think you are..!? You are-!
The man you have come to beg to..?
He commented insidiously, a stark contrast with the innocent smile on his lips much to his guest's annoyance and short tempered fuse.
Without a second thought the cultist yanked the sheet of paper from his grip, ignoring the offered pen as he went to read the contents of the piece of paper like a man struggling to breath in the depths of the ocean.
Only for him to tear it apart a few seconds later in anger.
..
..
Such a waste of good paper...
Oh? And why would you do that for..?
He asked with feign innocence, his voice bringing the rage filled glare of the cultist like shit draws flies towards him.
You...You treacherous thug.., you spit on my face and then tell me how you want to rob us blind and expect me to say yes..!? Are you having a joke at the cults expense…!?
He almost smiled.
It felt like he was having a role in a play of a theater. The dramatics were everywhere.
Now, now...one should not be rude among peers..
You are merely a third tier opportunist living in filth…! Do you think we are going to take this insult from you!?
Dakuikan closed his eyes to a half lid, the fake warmth shown in them a moment ago no longer visible as they glared with the kindness of ice.
Hmm….you should have stopped at mad, and yes you are gonna take it unless you wanna take it from my men over here?
He said calmly as he lazily gestured with one hand at the guards posted at the corners of the room. The Mercenaries hired not yet unsheathing their own weapons from their holsters, but clearly starting to approach the two from where they stood.
Panic flared in the cultist eyes, a shaking hand trying too to pull his weapon while sizing his soon to be foes, but just as he was about to...he stopped. That damning realization coming to light in his mind as he understood than even if he did...there would be too many to properly fight.
And who could know how many more would come drawn by the sound of battle.
In the end, the man merely chose to glare at him with hellbent desires to see him choke in his own blood in whatever sick fantasy may be playing in his mind, emboldened by his wounded pride.
Lord Loki will hear of this..!
He looked at the hooded man for a moment before he sighed loudly, picking the pen from the table and twirling it on his fingers.
I thought that your people were more open minded than this..., better than us...as if more enlightened
If sarcasm was a mineral several corporations would be drooling at the prospect of mining him.
After all, was it not the cult who hired us in the first place to control the underbelly of Midgard instead of doing it themselves..? A quid pro quo of sorts...
Don't change the topic..
I am not, I am merely stating what you seem to want stay… "hidden". It must make you feel real bad to depend on us, isn't it?
You curd!
Hm…, so brazen….nothing alike your predecessor He mused mostly to himself than anyone else, though the fact that he was heard did not matter to him.
I must say that I have seem real fools botch simple jobs before, but this is a first…you are not a good diplomat aren't you?
Enough of your jabs..
I take that there wont be a deal?
That wont ever happen..
Are you sure? A flexible mind wins the game...besides, its not very wise to ever say never. One never knows what the future holds for us He said before putting finally putting the pen down again, his left hand the roaming the shelves of his desk before pulling something from within. Wine..? This is a vintage a two centuries old..
I would rather not..
Pity, more to myself then...
He said as he brought a now filled cup to his lips, the cool liquid sliding gently down his throat. Its sweet taste dangling gently in his mouth.
Enough with your games, Lord Loki gave you his answer. We wont accept anything else than submission..
Urgh...youngsters were always so hot blooded...so prideful.
It irked him...
He glared at the dark tinted liquid left on the cup, its surface rippling within the glass, obscuring the reflection of his features like a photo taken in the dark.
Ah...what I am going to do with you? You refuse my courtesy, then refuse my wine and now you bare your teeth at the prospect of an honest dialogue between our two parties? Tch, that wont do...
Dakuikan then leaned against the back of his seat. Hmm….your master is a man of few words and too many ultimatums that fellow of yours...clearly not a savvy of business opportunities..
A pity…
They could have found a common ground and things would have sailed smoothly afterwards.
Alas, it was not meant to be…
Well, I would be lying if I said that I enjoyed this meeting so far, but it was nice of you to make the trip here anyway..,
What..?
However, I am afraid you will return to your master empty handed for the time though. Have a good day sir.., you can be on your way
You..? Ordering me, a first chi-?
He set down the cup with a loud thud over his desk.
I wonder…. who they will send after you? Do you make yourself the same question boy...?
He uttered the cold, vile question. A few seconds later the sound of blades been drawn out by his guards echoed in the room as they started to approach the man from all sides.
I wont forget this slight, schemer…
Cursed the cultist under his breath, eyeing the men that were already at sword reach around him before turning around and strolling out from the premises of the room by himself.
Clearly eager to not waste either his pride or life right here and now.
[Well, that could have gone a lot better…] He mused to himself, though he would not lose any sleep over it.
Ah, what a wonderful scene…..all that a man could want in ones own life
A voice not his own commented from not far way.
His brows furrowed ever so slightly as he tilted his head towards his right, eyes gazing at a sofa that leaned against the further wall from is desk, or perhaps, at the peculiarly old looking man sitting over it.
One leg crossed over the other while one of his hands held aloof a cup of tea.
Hmm… its good to see that you have finally something to say, Lutheran. As much as I appreciate you giving me the heads up... keeping quiet there while slurping tea its not your type of thing..
A dry laugh came from the man, lips twisting into a smile that did not match his eyes.
We all get old my friend, though I don't think I "have" a type of thing..
Ha.., perhaps you are right. Some more than others..
Such is the cruelty of human nature…
He hummed absentminded at that, finishing his cup from its left over remains.
The two had met long ago, when one was more of a rogue than a noble with ambition far greater than his shadow….while the other aspired for immortality.
The two should have hated each other given their respective natures and lofty goals…..but strangely enough, business ideas made for stranger bed partners.
And Lutheran was at least the less insane of them all.
Still dreaming on that blasted thing of yours…I take?
What can a man do but dream when given a brief taste of said power?
Dreams don't feed you.., actions do
True... Replied Lutheran a few seconds later, however his tone had shifted to a more strained undertone Still, do you really thought that was a wise course of action? If the cult decides to retaliate….it could be problematic for you..
Don't you mean us, my friend..? He jabbed with a half hearted scoff at the self labeled scientist with a glare as he went to pour more wine into his cup Afraid now of repercussion after you told me what they would do part by part..?
The idea of rejecting the cults or in this case this faction of it approach to get them under their heel was one thing that he was gonna refuse anyway.
However he would be lying if he said that Lutheran had not played a big part on the final decision on his posture would be to it.
Hohoho….I am old, but not foolish. I just want to know if you had anything else under your sleeve than the usual..
Why? Want to hit them where it hurts..? He inquired, a raised eyebrow.
Perhaps... Said the aged man with a dangerous glint passing by his eyes, yet one that he did not feel threatened by at all.
Dakuikan smirked, a hollow thing that could only be considered a parody of what it tried to imitate.
I think I did well in keeping you around Lutheran..
It was the best decision you ever did in your life, my old friend...
º
º-...Pendragon state...-º
Servants quarters
º
What are you doing with those worn down clothes, dear...?
Sasha smiled at her grandmother's question, the young girl having left the main mansion of the state a few minutes ago to make her way towards one of the smaller and dimly lit underground servants barracks separated from the main house. The elderly woman resting gently over and even older bed that somehow seemed in better state than its current occupant.
It was not much, they had always been poor, but it was better than to be left to rot on the streets. And from what she had heard, after the " incident" in the capital things were getting worse out there.
She sighed inwardly with a small pang of relief that nothing of the sort had happened here. Anyway, since her grandfather had passed away peacefully in his sleep several years back the gentle woman that her grand mother had once been had barely left this four walls.
Not like that had not stopped her working with threads and rags from time to time...when the melancholy was not swaying her mind at least though. Hmm….now that she thought about it her grandmother had always been good with those things.
Having worked in her youth as a seamstress in a poor neighborhood, offering most of the time what little cloth she made to those she cared, never charging for her services because she knew that it would not be fair to ask those who could barely survive on their own as they were.
A kind gesture, but one that did not brought food to the table.
Sadly, the years had not been kind to her as they passed by, her fingers were far too fragile, her hands to shaky for that kind of precise labor anymore. And even what had been once a beauty had degraded just as much as her hair was getting grayer every year.
And so, the woman had tried to work on a brothel. Not as one of the main girls, but taking care of the children that were born through the exchanges of money for pleasure behind those velvety curtains. A simple thing, but useful in its own right.
However, that would not last long either.
Old women were not look fondly in such places by either the patrons or the customers. Prompting her to either leave...or be made to.
Sometimes Sasha wondered what would have been of her and her family had not her grandmothers path met a certain Lord on the streets of the capital.
A slave collar in her neck just like her and her mother had bore was a small price to pay to have a boring yet steady life away from danger.
A girl at the mansion has a little boy who just had a growth spurt and all his old clothes are too small.. Sasha held up the small bundle of children's clothes snugly held to her chest, I offered some of fathers old clothes until she gets a chance to get something new….or better..
She heard herself say.
She heard herself lie.
It wasn't something Sasha felt rather proud of, but she doubted she needed to burden her meemaw with the truth yet. And if things went smoothly then she would never need to.
Her grandmother hummed at her response, a spark of interest behind those apathetic eyes as the woman tilted her head to the side, letting her grayish hair dangle loose over her shoulder.
Whose kid is it? Was it the bunny-girl's..?
Sasha mentally kicked herself, clutching the collection of clothes closer to her chest as she tried to keep under-wraps her unease. She had hoped she would not delve more on th matter.
Clearly, she had been wrong...
Sasha shook her head as she counted that the pieces of cloth were the ones she had come to collect. It's a new girl, just hired a few days ago,
Sasha answered, doing her best to avoid the white lie from been too noticeable as-well as hoping to avoid the oncoming morning crowds of servants milling about the state.
The sooner she left the better.
And grandmother, no bunny-girl works at the State... [Not yet anyway…] She thought, though that was left unsaid.
However, with the never ending influx of new servants either recruited or bought that seemed a rather possible future on the horizon, rather than a distant one.
A pair of glossy eyes looked away from the wall they had been so focused on, switching their attention at her, or perhaps just past her...
Hmm….strange, could have sworn you introduced me to that sweet girl some time ago. The one with the black hair.."
A bed of sweat slid down her head. Memaw..., that was Tisha. She's a wolf Thearinthrope...
Really..?
Yes..
The old woman mulled slowly over the response. I see...her ears seemed a tad too tall for a bunny girl, though a bit small too for a wolf...no?"
With a sigh Sasha smile fondly at her grandmother. Tisha said it's something from her father's side...
And who that might be...?
I... She started to say, yet her voice died down momentarily, having trouble finding the right words as she remembered the day she came around, biting her lip I don't know…, she was bought from the market alone..
Tisha was not one to speak much of her origins, however the way the chains and shackles rustled loudly the day she was brought to the state, and the hateful look in the girls eyes spoke enough of what had transpired to led her to this place.
With a final grunt or shrug depending from your point of view her grandmother seemed to see their conversation finished as she went back to lean down on the bed. Deciding not to remain idle there any longer Sasha bolted out of the room as fast as her legs could take her...though not as obvious as to draw suspicion from the other servants that she met on the way.
Or at least…., doing her best not to trip over herself as she rushed through.
She quickly passed through the servants labyrinth of underground corridors that lead to the main wing of the mansion palace, the rough, naked, blacken cobblestones slowly shifting under her feet by years and years of use, her sight barely reaching further than the length of her arm even with the aid of the torchlight lighting her path.
It was not long until she ascended one of the many narrow and steep staircases that led her from the darkness within the depths of the state's underground to the cold light of the proper mansion.
The damp air turning into a frosty chill that ran through her back as her eyes transitioned from the tunnels to the fine polished marble halls that reflected her form with scary clarity.
Despite some questioning looks from the other servants as she passed, she ran into no issues. Across more hallways and up more flights of stairs she reached her destination, a secluded wing of the state.
Exited, yet nervous she stood before the wooden frame of the dual door in front of her. With a deep breath she stared at the collection of clothes in her arms one last time before she curtly knocked on the door, announcing her arrival before entering inside, quickly closing the door behind her when she did.
The room was large, and mostly unoccupied or used unlike the rest of the building as far as she was aware. The air within dragging and air of antiquate yet stillness that was hard to look away from. Her eyes however did not roam the area with wonder, for they were sorely focused on the other soul sitting across the room.
Young...
He was younger than her by a few years…
And yet the newest figure of the household seemed to glow with a light-less aura that commanded both respect and awe from someone that should be many times her senior.
It was no wonder that Mara, the head maid spoke so highly of him.
She did too...though perhaps for a different reason.
One mostly related to his smooth raven hair cascading down his white suit, the gentle breeze of air slipping through the cracks of the windows stilts or the doors soothingly rocking back and forth the loose strands of hair from his sharp features that were more akin to have been carved into stone rather than flawed flesh.
All under the gaze of eyes that mimicked melted ice, a sharp chin tilting up from a book he had been holding on his lap, and then...meeting hers..
My Lord, here are the disguises you asked of me…
She muttered with all due haste, bowing her head slightly once she realized she may have been caught staring when she shouldn't. However, if the young lord had noticed...he did not say or gave notice of it. Instead, he set the book he was holding to the side.
Good morning... Sasha. I was waiting for you..
Came the gentle, yet cool voice of the young lord as he casually greeted her, the soothing echo of his words making her maiden heart skip a beat or two as the fabric of his clothes shifted alongside his posture.
The monochromatic hues of his suit seemingly giving him an ever purer look in her eyes when put into contrast with the smooth darkness of his mane and the shadows of his eyes.
Is that it..?
The question echoed softly, almost as if whispered inside her head at the same time he uncrossed his legs, standing up from his seat. Silver eyes quickly taking notice of the bundle of clothes in her arms.
She nodded. Yes, this….this is the best I could do on such short notice, my Lord
The red haired maid quickly pardoned herself as she found the strength to articulate her feet forward instead of remaining stuck where she stood. Dumping the clothes on a nearby couch.
The young black haired boy approached her, his footsteps so ethereal that she had not realized he was standing to her side until she tilted her head in that direction and in the process rub her face onto the sturdy frame of his chest which his suit did little to hide away from her imagination.
She panicked, taking a step back that almost ended in a stumbled against one of the tables...had he not gently held her hand and pulled her to the side.
Her cheeks flared at the strength of his grip even when he was holding her so gently.
[His touch is so warm..even with those gloves on]
His eyes however were not showing the same feeling, nor they were even looking at her. Silver spheres coldly, yet carefully inspecting the articles one by one like a hawk running a mental projection of what critter they would target.
Though it did not matter, she was not paying attention to any of it...lost in her own little world as she was.
With a satisfied nod, he looked back at her.
This is exactly what I was looking for. Thank you Sasha..
The young Lord Koldarrd thanked her before taking away the several articles she had brought and walked behind a dressing screen to try them on.
The sudden praise catching her by surprise long enough for her to not realize that she should have at least tried to protest such decision. It was her her role after all to help him dress...
W-well...perhaps this time she could just leave it be.
When Sasha first heard the princess's plan to sneak out of the state and blend in with the crowds of the capital, she wanted to ask the young lord which story book he had been reading. A noble sneaking out of their castle in peasants clothes to walk anonymously among the commoners? Sounded like something out of a children's tale.
However….. it was actually kind of cute.
The young lord had always acted mature for her age, sometimes making one forget that he was far younger than his height would suggest. Beating hordes of knights and guards in duels, maintaining lengthy conversations with both masters of the House and even managing to quell and keep in check the little Lady of the house. Which were no small deed indeed.
However it seemed that even he had that ever so common childish trait of impulsiveness. Of course, she had tried to explain that there was no need for that., but then the young Lord shared with the maid the reason behind such strange request.
He was tired…
He was tired of been kept in the gilded cage that was the Pendragon State. Tired of living in the 'bubble' that were the household and the lands surrounding it.
He told her of how he wanted to simply walk the city streets. Not the streets of the nobility, but the streets walked by the common people. To get a sense of the state of Midgard beyond the sweeten words and false platitudes that he received daily on the confines of the mansion grounds.
She remembered when the young lord had took her by the hand to the window of his room once when they were alone and pointed out to the fields beyond the tall marble walls and spires that for the main wing of the state.
To the lush-full fields of grass and dirt that milled the ground from miles on end, to the pointy, dark hued cups of the trees from the forests surrounding the valley...and if she stretched her sight the dim lights of what could only be Midgard proper on the vast distance to the east.
He had watched it all from up here all this time…, from morning to dusk, day after day, night after night…..and yet, Sasha knew that she had seem more of the Kingdom that she lived that the boy itself even if she had been born in servitude.
Such a sad little irony wasn't it? And yet...he didn't keep that from getting in his way or his life.
He...just kept pushing on with his head high,
He was a young boy, alone in a land so far away from where he used to live, surrounded by people and rules so different from what he knew, secluded behind walls and towers...and he did not let that stop him.
It was….if she was honest with herself….rather admirable
Like the books her mother usually told her of knights and heroes. However, what he said next truly touched Sasha
"What kind of man can I say I am if I've never even walked the streets of my home...?"
It had made her think.
It had made her wonder who else but him could have managed to strike so deeply in her heart with such kindness..?
When the nobles and lords from whatever place they spawned walked around Midgard, it was usually either to leave or enter the Royal District. The city beyond the upper hill where the castle was situated and the main avenues and halls of the capital were irrelevant to them. In fact, to say that they walked the streets would be a bit of a disservice to the word since most of them either chose to traverse in a carriage or sat upon a great elevated throne that was held up and moved by a number of servants or slaves.
The sneer in their faces as they watched people like her drag themselves over the cold, rugged stones. As if the mere act of touching the same ground as the common folk offended them.
[Thank the goddess no one has ever come with an invention to create a bubble of air so that those ass-hats don't breath the same air as the poor..]
Yet here was... a young boy whose blood was bluer than the sky, bearing the name and future of the Pendragons house, wishing to do just that.
It surprised her to think that she had ever been afraid of him when in reality he had proven to be such a soft and innocent individual. Indeed it had taken just one proper look into his eyes to be filled with such loyalty and willingness to serve to brush away those meaningless thoughts and preconceived ideas from her mind in an instant.
He had always been of the softer sort; with an innocent demeanor and caring nature that seemed at odds with everything a noble should be. This was a well known fact among the servants of the Palace. He asked the servants and slaves how their days were.
How they were. Were they happy? Were there any problems they wished addressed..?
The list went on and on.
Most of them simple things...and yet she had found herself surprised at how no one had ever bother to ask her something so trivial.
The fact that someone cared...cared enough to do something like that was a like breath of fresh air.
And though some tried to feign ignorance and try to change the term of discussion to something else in order to not plague the young lord with such sad stories, he never showed bother or anger at that, but instead a compassionate silent nod.
He even remembered and referred to them by their names. When he needed Sasha, he didn't say "girl" or "maid" as the others would, no, he called her name. Sasha. Or when he wanted Tisha, he didn't call for the "mutt" or the "dog girl", he asked for Tisha.
Her lips curling up from the stiff stoic mask that she was meant to wear as a maid into a thin smile as her heart started to beat a little harder behind her ribs,
Where the staff would feign their 'joy' and smiles when they served the masters and their noble guests from afar such expressions were genuine for the young Lord, though she knew they would never make such admission out loud let they lose their heads for such heresy...
Yes...this was indeed what I wanted. You have done well...
The cool voice of Koldarrd startle her out of her thoughts as the young lord emerged from behind the changing screen.
Gone was the dazzling young boy that seemed about to host a meeting with the king itself, what emerged instead was a young, tired looking rapscallion of a lowborn carriage driver that seemed more prone to break someones neck than share gentle words
With Koldarrd's long black mane now tied in a messy, greasy ponytail, his eyes almost covered by an old and dusty beret which color had long dried out from it by the passing of the years. A sleeveless vest made of lamb fur badly badly patched with some dried leather covered a sickly yellowish collared shirt, all together hiding any of the daintiness of his true heritage from anyone who knew no better.
She didn't know how he had managed to make his eyes look a lot more sunken on his flesh, or how there were now dark circles beneath them, making his no longer silver eyes, now brownish shine dimly in his face.
But at this point she doubted this would be the strangest thing she would see today.
The carriage..? He asked.
Already prepared…, we have five minutes before they set out.., seven if they take their time
And the chauffeur for the carriage..?
Already taken care off.. She said, nodding her head.
A cup here, a spice over there….and the man meant to take the carriage from the barn a few minutes from now would spent a few too many hours on the bathroom.
A simple remedy...but no less efficient.
The young lord stared at her for a brief moment, his eyes staring at h-, no.., past her, caught on something that she could not see or perhaps never began to understand. However before she tried to tilt her head to the side to peak on what could that " thing" be…. he nodded at her, walking right past her without a moments notice.
Good.., lets get going. We have much to do….
Silently, she nodded, bowing her head before she picked the rims of her skirt up her to ran after him.
She wasn't sure what future would befall them in this adventure of theirs, but if this was what he needed to accomplish his goal...then she would do her best for his sake.
She...would serve.
Forever.
She thought as she followed after her liege. A red glimmer of light in her eyes that did not belong there and a smile way to broad in her lips.