THE SUNDERING

NYSSA

The fool.

Nyssa's icy eyes narrowed, and her spine straightened, shifting slightly upon her ornately carved flower and thorn-laden throne. In front of her cowered one of her courtiers, the presumptuous man caught in bed with one of her blind beauties. No one slept with a royal slave without having to pay, but that was precisely what he dared to do.

Drilling her fingers on the arm of the chair, she lifted her chin for him to speak. Not that she'd believe anything he told her. A smile hovered beneath her pinched lips, ready to break loose. She'd not forgive the transgressors or let them go free, no matter his excuse.

"I give you leave to explain," she said. "But think carefully before you do."
His sun-darkened skin paled and his head bowed to the floor. It delighted her that with few words, she had the power to make mighty men quake before her. "Tell me, soldier. What gave you the assumption you could touch one of my prized ones?"

His response, though delayed, was almost too quiet to hear. "She isn't a slave, your Majesty."

"Oh?" She leaned forward. "Then tell me, what is she exactly?"

Behind her, the guards adjusted their weaponry, ready to enact her whim and to seal the man's fate. They were apparently smarter than the warrior on his knees. Death was the only way this debacle could end.

"Pardon, your Majesty." The man sputtered, pausing, and glancing up at her. Gathering courage, his protest rallied in the quiet room. "I love her. The woman-she's my wife."

Nyssa's frown scared him into quickly lowering his head again. "Your wife? Is that so?"

He quivered, his voice shaking. "Yes, my Queen."

Nyssa stood, her snow-colored gown draping around her with serpentine grace. She took one step, two steps forward, down her metal and stone pedestal to reach the man below her. Without another word, she reached out her hand; and lifted his chin with her fingers. To his credit, he didn't flinch-much.

"You say you love her." Her fingers smoothed across his clean-shaven jaw to grip his flesh. The man was handsome, and as she examined him, another thought came into her mind. Using him. But that was too easy, and he'd given himself to another, a woman who belonged to her. There wasn't anything she could do for him now.

"I do."

He answered without hesitation. Nyssa's lips curved into a smile, viperous and cold. She deserved her warrior's attention. She deserved the devotion from her whores, and from anyone and everyone in the entire kingdom. No one denied her. After all, she was Queen.

She pondered him, his lean strength, and the impressive bulge under his trousers that even his fear didn't hide, and it made delight tingle through her body. That delight quickly faded. Such a shame. He'd likely feel magnificent pounding into her.

"How interesting," she said, making him flinch. He knew her reputation, yet he stole from her anyhow. If he thought she was capable of mercy, he was a damned fool. Nyssa pandered to no one. Still, it was nice to play.

She beckoned to the guard nearest the door. "Bring in the slave. I want to see for myself."

The warrior raised his eyes. "W-what are you going to do to her?"

Nyssa's smile darkened. "Wrong question, soldier, and you have so few of them left. My patience is short, and you've almost extended it. I'm Regent. And by the grace of the gods, I can do anything I want."

The door swung open, and a naked, bound woman pulled behind a guard. Her neck and wrists decorated with heavy chain, her eyes blank and empty. Beautiful, with hair the color of sunset and skin pale as milk. Blinded, as all her girls were. Nyssa pointed to the fallen warrior.