Sedrak leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. “Only now you consider your future?” He laughed, and it was difficult to tell if he found her words genuinely funny, or if he was being cruel.
“In truth, I think of myself, but also my kingdom,” she said. “If I marry, but I cannot, now, so, I am… not… my uncle shall have no heir…”
She was babbling. Sedrak’s brow was furrowing.
His expression darkened as the last trickles of her incoherent speech tumbled from her mouth.
“Your uncle is lucky to be alive, and your kingdom is fortunate that I have forgiven his actions.” He sauntered back to his pile and slumped into it.
She stayed mute and stared straight ahead, but she knew that some anger rose to the surface of her eyes.
Sedrak seemed intrigued by her indignation. “Your uncle. He spun stories of his exploits, no doubt?”
She pursed her lips and shook her head. “I try… tried to listen to him as little as I could.”
Sedrak leaned forward and steepled his fingers in front of his chest. “Then you wouldn’t know of him pillaging my people and their livestock in the Northern hills?”
Her nostrils flared and she drew in a breath.
“No mention of burning villages and slaughtering my cattle?”
She shook her head. “No, Master.”
“My subjects begged for him to be killed. I was kind, and took payment instead.”
Leola shivered, hearing herself spoken of in such mercenary terms.
“You did offer yourself, Leola Grace. Perhaps you regret your decision, but you think of your future too late to save it.”
Leola looked at the furs and fought back her anger.
Sedrak looked at her with what appeared to be renewed interest. “Your uncle has no heir, you say?” He asked her as if she had only just made this statement.
Leola’s lips trembled as she answered. “N… n… no, Master. That is to say, no, he does not. Have an heir.”
Sedrak seemed slightly amused. He gulped some of the wine and smirked at her. “Am I to understand, then, Leola the princess, that you were to be married and produce his heir?”
Leola’s whole face burned now. It had been true, and he must have known it was no longer.
“Answer me!” Sedrak barked.
Leola jumped. “I… I… yes. I was to be… married.” She had never really thought of it much, but yes, she was to produce Ryken’s heir.
A lump formed in her throat.
“Speak,” Sedrak barked. “I can see something troubles you.”
Leola could not find her voice for a moment. Her throat was dry. “I… I am… troubled that he will have no heir, Master. That is all.”
Sedrak seemed intrigued by this as well. “No heir!” he barked. There was a question in his voice. “Why is that? You are young, you will surely bear children.” He looked into his wineglass and muttered something in his dialect that she could not understand.
Leola lifted her chin bravely and fought back the tears in her eyes. “I cannot be married. Not now. No legitimate man shall have me.”
Sedrak looked at her for a long time, until she looked at the furs again. Behind his eyes a true fire burned, bordering on hate. Her chest felt cold, she wished she could retract her words.
“No legitimate man,” Sedrak repeated bitterly. “No legitimate man?” He set his wine goblet down with such force that Leola jumped. Her skin tingled all over.
She knew that her words had displeased Sedrak, but she could not be certain exactly what had displeased him. She would take it all back, if only she could—and yet, it had been Sedrak who had compelled her to tell the truth.
After what seemed like an eternity, Sedrak barked a laugh and poured himself more wine. Before tipping the goblet into his throat, he muttered, “Legitimate man,” again, derisively.
After swallowing, he wiped his mouth crudely and looked at her. A cruel smile, which almost seemed forced, turned up the corners of his mouth. “Then I have humiliated your uncle doubly, have I not?” He looked at the wall, musing mirthlessly. “How fitting.”
Leola was suddenly emboldened, perhaps because Sedrak seemed so cruel in that moment—not just to her, but to her uncle. “Why did you spare his life?” she said, the sentence spilling from her before she could stop it. “Master,” she added quickly. It seemed to her, after all, that Sedrak could have killed Ryken and taken the whole castle, and all of the women, as his playthings. She narrowed her eyes as this thought developed in her mind.
Sedrak took another sip of wine and glared at her over the top of the bottle. She bravely stared back at him.
“Cruelty disgusts me,” he said simply.
She opened her mouth to point out to him that he was as cruel as any man she had ever met, but stopped herself as she remembered the sharp sting of his hand.
“Do you find me cruel, plaything?” he asked, when the silence hung for too long between them.
She bit her tongue, anger flaring in her.
His eyes narrowed. “Remember I will not tolerate your lies,” he said.
She glared at him. “You stripped me bare and made me… spread myself!” she said, almost spitting the words. “And now I stand here with this thing inside of me, and you make a jest of my kingdom’s ruined future, and my own. Is that not cruel?”
Sedrak leaned back against the furs. He laced his fingers together across the hard muscles of his stomach. “I could have killed your uncle, and burned your home, and taken you as a plaything anyway. Your men were defeated, the castle was ripe for the taking. I could even…” he said, and then stopped himself.
Her face flushed, this time with anger. “You could have… you could have… chosen another, or made me a servant… or… or…”
“Do you find it cruel, plaything, that your people terrorize mine, and burn their homes? Perhaps it is cruel of your uncle, to let a woman save his life, and then make
