Page 40 of Scourged

Shawth reached out his hand. Touched her cheek, ran it down her neck. Cupped her breast, the meaty flesh of his palm stinging.

“You are much better like this,” he muttered, still grinning. “So … compliant.” He glanced at the watching lords. “Now, why don’t you be a good girl for us all andkneel.” His command was louder, echoing around the hall.

As Mariah dropped to the floor, the captive part of her sobbed.

She knew this command was intentional. That, somehow, they knew Andrian had said words so very similar not long ago in the shadowy stacks of the palace library. Perhaps he’d been forced to share those details with them himself.

His image, lost and broken and confused as he stood in her cell's doorway, flashed through her mind.

She didn’t know what to believe when it came to him. Confusion and warring instincts joined her fear, settling beside her in the hollow crevices of her soul.

“Well done, Lord Shawth!” boomed a boisterous voice. A voice that thought it commanded attention, believed itself powerful, but was just empty and full of malicious, useless feelings of inferiority.

The voice of the Lord of Andburgh, the Crossroad City. Mariah’s home before a letter from the queen started her life anew.

Her mind fled to her family, still residing in Andburgh. What could Donnet’s presence here mean for them?

Two pairs of boots filled her vision. Heavy hands gripped her hair.

“Stand up, pretty girl.”

She stood. Lord Donnet stared at her with too much possession.

“How did you do it, Lord Shawth? Her compliance is truly remarkable.”

Shawth grinned. “We got her starving, then laced someuxosilin her food. I always knew she was more animal than woman; she didn’t even think twice about it. Who knew it would be so easy to fell aqueen?” More laughter echoed as he sneered the word.

“I’d heard rumors about the drug but had no idea it would be so potent.” Shawth’s grin faltered slightly, brow twisting in contemplation. “Unfortunately, I think it will only work to break her spirit. We can’t force her to abdicate like this; she must do that willingly. That queen magic is stubborn and too tightly bound to her—only she can coax it out. But I imagine we can try to spark a … change of heart from her, don’t you think?”

Donnet’s expression turned curious. “So she is conscious?”

Shawth nodded. “Yes. Fully conscious and aware of us, but unable to move her body on her own or speak for herself. It will not last long, but …” Those hands reached back out. Drew her too close to him. Pressed his body against hers. “For now, it’s absolutely perfect.”

He released her, pushing her toward the table of lords with a slap to her ass. The material of her short dress fluttered, and she knew too much skin flashed.

“Now go. Be a good girl and show our lords a good night.”

Her world blurred.

Hands were on her skin. Lips were on her neck. Hot, putrid breath touched her mouth and nose. Her eyes were open, but she did not see any of it; she stayed curled and hidden and safe against her wall, with her magic, letting her body get swept away. Bodies could be healed and cleaned, but her soul, her spirit … that would always belong to her, and she wouldn’t let them have it.

“I could’ve had her before, back in Andburgh, you know,” Donnet’s loud voice boasted, filtering through her haze. “I knew which taverns she frequented. But I just didn’t think it appropriate to lower myself like that, you know?”

“And yet you lower yourself now?” The answering voice was softer, deadlier, and achingly familiar.

Donnet snorted. “Hardly. Plenty fine to touch, but I think all of us agree that fucking a girl like that will foul you forever.”

More laughter. But not from that voice.

“Well, I suppose I’m just as dirty as her.”

Mariah was aware of the pause in the conversation. How the hands on her thighs stopped circling, how the fingers in her hair withdrew. Donnet floundered.

“You know that’s not what I meant, my boy?—”

“We know, Lord Donnet.” Lord Laurent’s cool voice echoed around the room. “But perhaps you and my son both make a good point.” Laurent leveled his golden stare on Mariah.

“Go to my son,” he commanded.

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