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  They were surrounded before they could move a few feet from the target. Persephone did all she could to help her sister hide her body as she looked frantically for Koli, barely able to see past the press of bodies closing in. Forcing his way roughly to her side, the captain herded their huddled forms further away from the target.

  He threw his cloak over Seraphime to hide her nakedness. “Say and do nothing. Do you understand?” Leaning into her, he spoke the words directly to Persephone, though he watched the soldiers closing in on them. In this moment – feeling as vulnerable as she did – Persephone knew she wouldn’t dare question or disobey him. She nodded, but because he wasn’t looking directly at her, she couldn’t say if he noticed or not.

  “Stand down!” His barked order brooked no argument. In response, the circle around them loosened. However, it did not escape her notice that the captain left his hand on the hilt of his sword. Not a good sign.

  An unknown soldier had already helped to remove the dagger, freeing Seraphime’s would-be molester. Feeling no guilt about using the captain as a shield, she kept Seraphime sandwiched between them while he glared angrily at the bodies pressing closer. Persephone was aware of the general moving angrily toward them from the opposite direction. He was carrying Kolimpri, who looked unharmed, but clung tightly to his neck. Unable to retreat because of the wall of soldiers pressing in behind her, unwilling to flee without both Koli and Seraphime, Persephone was powerless to fight them out of this situation. For once, she wasn’t responsible. And, yet, it wouldn’t save them.

  Holding his injured hand to his chest, the stuck soldier pointed at her as he addressed the general. “She stabbed me! Fucking cunt!”

  The general made no reply. Just kept marching purposefully their direction. As he neared, he slid Koli to the ground without breaking stride and pointed Persephone’s direction. Kolimpri wasted no time sprinting over. She barely slowed down before colliding with Persephone, throwing both arms around Persephone’s legs in an enthusiastic hug.

  The general kept walking toward the target. Belatedly, Persephone realized he hadn’t been coming for her after all. Still, they were not out of the woods yet. Passing their small huddle, he marched directly to the soldier who had accosted Seraphime. Grabbing the man by the collar, the general slammed him into the target. The shock on the soldier’s face must have mirrored her own. She’d been too surprised to temper her response, a thing that was very unlike her. Fortunately, everyone seemed to be too distracted to notice.

  “I gave an order that the slave girl is not to be touched.” Silence resounded through the once-raucous courtyard. The general released the soldier and stepped back to address the group. “Did I bring soldiers or adolescent boys?!” There was no doubt every man present heard his accusation. Persephone felt their discomfort ripple through the throng. “The festivities are over. Let me be perfectly clear: I will personally castrate the next man who lacks the self-control to keep his hands to himself when ordered to do so.” The general scanned the crowd, radiating authority. “Dismissed.” Though he spoke the word softly, the menace in his tone was obvious.

  His soldiers dispersed immediately. Persephone, Seraphime, and Kolimpri stayed right where they were as the courtyard cleared. When she saw the captain remove his hand from his sword, Persephone finally released the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.

  Oblivious to the implications of what had just happened, Kolimpri bounced impatiently at Persephone’s feet. “Did you see?!”

  Anxious as she herself was, it was difficult to imagine how Kolimpri could possibly be excited. Her attention was divided, but Persephone shot Koli a quick, confused glance.

  “The general played too!” Koli exclaimed.

  “Yes, I did see that,” Persephone admitted cautiously. It had taken longer than was typical for her to answer, distracted as she was tracking the disgruntled exodus of the soldiers around them.

  Koli continued to wriggle excitedly, completely undeterred by Persephone’s diverted attention. “What does it mean to castrate?”

  Unprepared for the wayward shift in Koli’s focus, Persephone offered Kolimpri her full consideration. Watching Persephone earnestly, she eagerly waited for the explanation.

  Nudity was not a source of embarrassment in Galilae. Koli was well aware of the physical differences between boys and girls. What she did not know was the implications those differences had once boys and girls grew into adulthood. To explain to Koli what castration entailed would undoubtedly lead to a landslide of further questions. Questions Persephone was not looking to answer presently.

  Aware that both the general and the captain stood close, observing their exchange, Persephone was immensely grateful that she wasn’t prone to blushing. Words, however, continued to elude her. “Uh…”

  “Yes, Princess, please explain castration.” She couldn’t look at the general. If she did, her cheeks would certainly color. From his tone, she gathered that he was enjoying himself immensely.

  Anticipation hovered thickly around Koli. How to explain this in a way that would answer the question without leading to more? “Well.” Nothing. She had no idea what to say. “Well,” she tried again, “if the general were to castrate someone, he would be taking away something very important to that individual.”

  Comprehension seemed to dawn on Koli’s little face. “Like when I misbehave and you take away my favorite doll?”

  Seraphime’s sudden cough sounded suspiciously like a snigger. At the cross look Persephone shot her direction, she cleared her throat, waving an apologetic hand in a please continue motion.

  A part of her could see the humor in the situation. If it were anyone else, Persephone would undoubtedly share in amusement at their expense. As it was, she’d never been so uncomfortable providing what was, frankly, a simple explanation. “I suppose it is sort of like that.”

  Koli’s big eyes begged for further clarification.

  “It would be different, though. Unlike your dolls, the soldiers would not be getting this item back,” Persephone explained as vaguely as possible.

  Nodding solemnly, Koli turned her attention to the general. “That would make them very unhappy.” Spoken like a true diplomat.

  The captain choked on his laughter and a smiling general had to clap him on the back before he managed to regain his bearings.

  “Wise words, Little Princess. I should think it would,” the general agreed with matching solemnity, though his eyes continued to sparkle.

  Persephone focused on her breathing to prevent the telltale heat from creeping into her cheeks. She was going to have to speak with Kolimpri about filtering which questions and thoughts were voiced aloud. Immediately.

  “Did I do well? Can we play back in our room?” Koli had grabbed Persephone’s hand and was prepared to start that direction.

  “Yes, you did very well,” Persephone acknowledged, wanting to stay a moment longer in order to entreat the general.

  “You did well too!” Koli was once again bursting with unreleased energy. “And Seraphime too! She did not move at all.” Koli was swinging their hands back and forth.

  Persephone only half-listened. She was watching the general, hoping to get his attention to confirm he would speak with her. It was imperative that they strike a deal. Especially after this fiasco.

  Seemingly unaware of Persephone’s distraction, Kolimpri didn’t need encouragement and she continued enthusiastically. “Do you want to hear a secret?”

  “Hmm?” Persephone answered absentmindedly. The general’s attention was riveted to Koli. Certainly he was aware that she was trying to get his attention. “Yes, tell me a secret.”

  Kolimpri tugged her hand hard and Persephone knelt down to accommodate. “The general is not as good at the game as you are.” Koli obviously thought she was whispering.

  Persephone felt her eyes widen automatically. Would the general take offense, or would he continue to be amused by Koli’s antics? Undoubtedly he heard her. Anyone in the vi
cinity who had ears could hear her.

  “Little Bird, he hit a very small target from six meters.” The thought that he wasn’t as good as her was laughable. “Why would you think he is not as good?”

  Hands on her hips, Koli looked at her as though it was obvious. “He missed!” Kolimpri was very interested in games with rules. Playing by the rules was important, digressing from them unthinkable to her.

  Koli’s childish questions and observations were comical, but far too honest considering they did not know how her words would be received. Men and their egos. Koli had no way of anticipating how her innocent remarks might grate on the general. Nor the disproportionately severe consequences that unintentional infractions could carry. Persephone was aware that her hands trembled. The tremor was a result of unspent energy after their near miss, and seemed to vibrate her entire body. Anxious laughter threatened to break Persephone’s composure. It didn’t help that Seraphime’s snigger-cough had resurfaced.

  Hoping to salvage the situation, Persephone had to clear her throat before she trusted herself to speak evenly. “No, Little Bird, I think the general hit exactly what he was aiming for.”

  Koli was lost in thought. “Oh?” Confusion and distress marred her previously exuberant countenance. “Does that mean you are not good at the game?”

  Seraphime couldn’t hold it in any longer. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her mirth. It did little. Doubling over, she laughed openly. Whereas Persephone managed to hold it in, even if barely so, it seemed Seraphime’s nerves had gotten the better of her. Persephone couldn’t remember the last time she had lost such control of her composure.

  “Not to worry, Little Princess, your sister is very good at the game.” The general’s amused smile at Koli’s obvious relief appeared sincere. When he pulled his eyes up to Persephone’s, the spark she saw there held much more than simple amusement. “But I am still better.”

  A threat or a promise? She could not tell.

  * * * *

  “Tell me about Princess Persephone.”

  Seraphime glanced anxiously at the man before her. Removing her eyes from the safety of the floor for only a moment, she attempted to gauge his mood without making direct eye contact. The general had dragged her away from the courtyard before she and Persephone could get a word in with one another. She supposed dragged wasn’t really an apt description for what had happened. He’d snapped his fingers and told her to come with him, and she had. What else could she do under the present circumstances? Not much. Choices were exceedingly limited.

  So here she was, alone in the king’s study with the one man she feared most at present. Her entire fate rested in his hands. Given what she’d seen thus far, it was not a reassuring thought.

  “I do not understand, sir.” When in doubt, it was best to stall.

  “It is a simple request. Surely you are not daft.”

  Seraphime set to distracting her mind by examining the stone just in front of her feet. Such distraction made it easier to keep her voice bland. Unemotional. “I do not know what you wish me to say. I am just a slave, sir.”

  “I want you to speak the truth. And are you, really?”

  “Am I what?” She continued to pretend not to understand. Slaves were not expected to be educated nor particularly bright.

  “Just a slave.”

  “Of course. What else would I be?” That had been a stupid question. Undoubtedly, he had already developed his own theory about who and what she was. Otherwise he would not have asked. She should be attempting to distract his attention from that topic, not encouraging inquiry. Typically, Seraphime did much better choosing her words, saying only the things she intended. Everything about this situation – particularly the day’s events – had her on edge. Her nerves were completely spent.

  “Funny you should ask. What is your relationship to the princess?”

  “I am her body slave.”

  “And?”

  “That is all.”

  “Liar.”

  “As you say, sir.” Much as it vexed her, slaves were not permitted to disagree with or contradict their owners. Unfortunately, that included any free man staying as a guest in their owner’s home. Though the Perdomans most certainly did not count as guests, they held all the power at present. Standing on protocol seemed the safest choice. It was what she had defaulted to throughout the day, though she hated herself for it.

  “You are her half-sister. The king’s bastard.” A question disguised as a fact.

  “I am not.” The question had only been implied, but he could still choose to take exception with her for contradicting him. This was dangerous territory. Her heart beat backward, forcing all the blood to her head. He was a smart man. That they were even here – in Galilae, in the palace – proved it. Likely he knew much about the kingdom, but did he know enough of their laws to have noted the infraction? She hoped not.

  He stood, moving around the desk and closing the space between them. She kept her eyes downcast, but watched him in her periphery. Seraphime allowed herself the luxury of shifting uncomfortably. It was appropriate; he would expect her to be afraid. She didn’t even have to fake it.

  “How is it that she came to be such a skilled fighter?”

  The general finally stopped, though he’d closed the distance between them until barely a hairsbreadth separated him from her. This was the type of situation that always got sticky. In the past, when men had encroached on her in such ways, they’d wanted her to stand still for a closer inspection. Intent on sampling the wares, as it were. Fortunately, these scenarios had been few and Persephone had always interceded on her behalf. No help would come this time. Unlike her previous experiences, Seraphime suspected that the general’s intent was to intimidate. The question was, did she retreat or not? Technically, she was not allowed to do so unless dismissed. At the same time, she wanted to do what he expected of her. It was always safest to play to the expectations of others. But not knowing what his might be, she ultimately decided he would expect her to follow Galilae’s code of conduct. With nothing else to go on, she stood her ground, keeping her eyes diligently pointed at their feet.

  “My mistress has always been a devoted student. She excels at all her studies.”

  “How literal of you.”

  Seraphime internally applauded herself. That had been her aim exactly.

  “I suppose I should have asked why rather than how?” the general elaborated.

  He was asking for answers to questions Persephone would not want shared. “Sir?” Feigning ignorance once more, Seraphime continued to stall.

  His hand shot out, covering the front of her throat. Instinctively, her own closed over his wrist. He’d not squeezed, but his grip was sufficient to be uncomfortable. Nose to nose, using the pressure of his forearm against her chest, he forced her backward until she suddenly hit the wall.

  “Do not play stupid with me.”

  “Apologies.” They were too close for her to look at the floor, so Seraphime looked to a place on the wall over his shoulder.

  “It was my understanding that Galilaean slaves were not to lie” – fuck her, so he did know the law. When he’d not reprimanded her for contradicting him, she’d hoped maybe he did not – “disagree with” – he increased the pressure on her throat slightly. Enough to be painful without seriously impairing her airway – “or otherwise disregard their masters as well as guests in their master’s homes. Is this not so?”

  “It is so.” Her words scratched their way out.

  He eased his hold, but did not remove his hand. Seraphime had to fight not to cough.

  “Am I not a guest?”

  “You are anything you claim to be, sir.” There. That was placating. Ambiguous. Like something Persephone would say.

  “And if I were to tell you strip, fuck me and then take a turn with each of my soldiers?”

  Seraphime looked skyward, blinking rapidly to dispel the tears stinging her eyes. Her thoughts turned to Para. To her desperate
pleas and cries as she’d been dragged away. In all her years, Seraphime had never been forced to lie with a man against her will. Largely thanks to Persephone. She prayed tonight would not be the day her luck ended. At this point, her only means of defense was to be as submissive as possible. As he knew Galilae’s laws, she dared not contradict him again. “It is your prerogative to command me as you see fit.”

  “A fact I am well aware of. Would you enjoy it?”

  The question surprised her, but she managed to answer automatically. “If I was instructed to.” The bitter words tasted of bile on her tongue.

  “Tell me, how do you think the princess, Persephone, would respond to this?” She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off sharply. “Choose your words wisely, slave. If you lie to me again, you will find yourself well used by morning. I’ve only promised your safety through the demonstration, which has passed.”

  Seraphime pressed her lips together firmly. Bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. What he suggested was unbearable to consider. Still, there were things she could not tell him under any circumstance. She did not know the right course. If it came down to it, she would protect Persephone over herself. A thing Persephone had always done for her, no matter the cost – and there had been times she’d paid dearly. Now it was her turn.

  “I do not wish to betray her,” she finally whispered.

  “I think that must have been the first truly honest thing you’ve said to me. Now was that so difficult?” He raised his free hand and ran the backs of his fingers against her cheek.

  Seraphime flinched, even raising a hand defensively before she caught herself and pulled it into her chest.

  “She tried to accept your punishment for you. After she killed Prodotin. Did you know that?”

  She did not. Nor did it surprise her. A fact that made the news no less distressing. Her breath hitched at the thought and Seraphime half-sobbed, errant tears finally spilling over. The pressure on her throat prevented her from measuring her breaths, something that would have helped her to regain her composure.