I don’t want to make an example out of him, but sometimes, these things are unavoidable.
The stairs creak as I storm down them, and when I make it to the bottom, I head straight across the room until I reach Belinda, who’s sitting on the lap of Earl, running her hand through his straggly beard and cackling in laughter.
They both straighten as I approach and she jumps up, dropping to the ground. “Sire,” she whispers.
“There’s a woman upstairs with Edward. Make sure they don’t leave.”
“Of course.” She reaches out, grasping my hand and kissing my rings, and a rush of satisfaction flows through my veins at her subservience.
Out of all my followers, she is undoubtedly the most loyal.
“If they try to run, kill her. And bring Edward to me.”
She straightens, her eyes maniacal as they gleam.
I make my way to the raised platform where a singular black velvet, high-back chair sits; a throne for me to watch over my people. It’s nothing close to the real thing—to the one I deserve—but for the moment, it works.
My boots clunk against the wood as I plop down, spreading my legs wide and drumming my fingertips on the arm of the chair, gazing out over the room. Everyone is busy slurping up soup and bread I had Paul send from the castle, and the tabletops are piled high with fur-lined coats to prepare for the winter months. A gift for their loyalty.
A handful of minutes pass until I hear the heavy thud of footsteps. My eyes flicker to the corner of the room, past the long picnic-style tables, to where the edge of the bar meets the staircase. Edward and his new love step down, their heads close together as they make their way toward me, Belinda prodding at their backs.
I rest my chin on my knuckles, watching while they weave through the tables and benches until they reach the edge of the platform. The noise around us quiets as people take note of something happening, and it pleases me that I don’t have to call their attention.
“Kneel before greatness, girl,” Belinda hisses, shoving at the girl’s shoulders until she drops to her knees.
Edward cuts Belinda a strong glare, stepping forward until he’s placed himself between them.
I smirk at his obvious attachment and wait for him to follow suit.
He doesn’t, and my grin drops, my insides seething. “Do you no longer bow before me, Edward?”
His eyes lock on mine as he drops to his knees.
Unease trickles through me at his hesitancy.
“Friends.” My fingers grip the edge of my throne as I lean forward and look out into the crowd. “It would appear we have a new comrade in our midst. And from the castle, no less.”
Grumbles spread through the crowd.
“Tell me, are you here to join our cause?” My fingers scratch against my jaw.
Sheina doesn’t respond, her shoulders trembling as she stares at the ground.
Her disobedience makes my blood crackle, aching to string her up and make her scream; use her as an example to show what happens when you displease me.
“Or maybe you were only here to get fucked by the king’s commander,” I spit.
She gasps, her head snapping to mine, her cheeks growing ruddy.
Edward moves forward. “Stop.”
That word.
That simple, silly word is the knife that severs my control, and I surge from my seat, flying down the platform until I’m in front of him, the back of my hand striking out across his face. His head whips to the side, blood splattering on the ground from where my rings cut into his flesh, and he stumbles, catching himself before he falls.
I wait until he rises before snatching his arm and twisting until the ligaments pop beneath my fingers. He drops to his knees, a small groan escaping from his gritted teeth.
“You do not tell me to stop,” I hiss.
He winces. “I… I brought her here for you.”
My brows jump, surprise filtering through me. I hadn’t expected him to say this.
“Oh?” I ask, my eyes glancing at her, wondering if he’s simply trying to save her from death. “So, you are a gift.”
I release Edward and move toward her instead.
“Tell everyone your name,” I command.
“Sheina,” she whispers, tears streaking down her face.
“Sheina.” I let the syllables roll off my tongue, debating whether to announce that I know exactly who she is. But at the last moment, I decide against it. “And who are you to the king?”
“No one.”
My nostrils flare as I stare down at her. “Speak louder so everyone can hear.”
She sits up straighter, her chest heaving with heavy breaths. “I said… I’m no one.”