As far as sleep could go, the one that Loldirr had endured the night before was torturous. The thought of swapping vows with this man who she knew nothing about irritated her and the idea that this man would end up touching her intimately produced a sickening feeling inside of her.
Facing death several times had pushed her mentally and physically to her limits, yet Loldirr longed to endure the uncertainty and pain of the challenge of survival than join in union with the second son of Empress Emmelina of Ruvia.
Each time Loldirr had closed her eyes, she recalled her time on the Sea Horse, a trade ship that had transported her and Ethelston to the elven city of Gryffinfall. Recalling the night that she was held down by several sailors to be taken advantage of by lustful men. It was fortunate that the weather had taken a turn for the worse to stop that assault from developing further.
Not long after the repulsive event, she performed her first form of justice. Watching the blood of the ringleader gush to the floor had brought her satisfaction and shame in equal measure as his blood-filled breaths shallowed and dissipated. Sparing his right-hand man had brought her guilt and remorse as she left him kneeling in his friend's blood.
Would she have shown the same restraint now, having seen what she had over the last several moon cycles?
Despite several attempts to placate her curiosity by asking the Chevalier de Présage about his thoughts on her future husband, it had left her deeply frustrated and angry. His words were sparse and non-committal at best, silent and empty at other times and it only compounded Loldirr's lack of sleep even further.
Now she sat in the great Ravenscourt hall at the head table to discuss her latest version of justice, but the bags developing under her eyes suggested that her justice would not be kind.
She watched as Knight Inquisitor Ithelred made an entrance alongside Ethelston Darke, the man she considered to be like a brother. Forming a smile towards the two men, she examined how both of them responded in kind. Ethelston was rugged and brash, yet caring and compassionate. His moniker, the Manticore Hunter, was a front for the true man that had travelled and protected her across several thousand miles. He was flawed, yet if her soon-to-be husband was half the man he was, then she could tolerate the union.
Then there was Knight Inquisitor Ithelred. While his smile flashed towards Loldirr, there was no happiness in it, no compassion or kindness, just a fake smile designed to briefly hide the true bitterness that controlled his heart. Loldirr longed for his wisdom and guidance, yet she wanted to stay well clear of his bloodlust, something she was afraid would embrace her as both her political and supernatural powers grow exponentially.
Two very powerful men, very different, neither perfect. Would Loldirr end up marrying an Ethelston, or an Ithelred?
Ethelston sat to her side, Ithelred just beside him as it had become custom, and as Erdudvyl flowed into the room next, Loldirr watched as Ethelston's face briefly lit up only to see Ithelred's frown grow deeper.
A spate of envy flushed its way over Loldirr's senses, almost building to a rage that she would struggle to control. With Erdudvyl sitting beside her, Loldirr refused to look, angered by the love that was blossoming between them both.
How could they get to feel and embrace something that she could not? How could they have each other just to sell her to some random man, a current enemy of her Empire?
"Are you ok?" Erdudvyl asked, placing her hand carefully on Loldirr's wrist.
In her mind, the touch felt like hot coals, and she was standing on her feet, ridiculing their hypocrisy, spewing her anger ferociously towards the two she had considered friends, but instead, she sat, slumped in the chair, nodding and smiling to her elven mentor.
As Vicomte Jeffry Thibodeaux entered the room, she recalled what this was all about. An alliance with a powerful neighbour.
With Ruvia on her side along with the forces of Ravenscourt, she would have substantial backing to regain her throne in Lionmane, yet it was still a risk. She controlled Ravenscourt, yet she did not have control of Ruvia, even after her marriage.
She was a woman in a man's world, expected to serve a husband as her master.
How could she? She was not someone's mistress or a lady in waiting, she was Loldirr Wraithslayer, the elemental sorceress, the last remaining survivor of house Aex-Igh, the most illustrious house in all the realms of men. How could she be expected to submit?
With the final key members of Ravenscourt and the Fæordic tribes entering the halls, Loldirr realised she was not in the best frame of mind for the decision she would likely have to make today. She was angry, frustrated and bitter, and now she was about to make someone pay for it.
"Bring him out!" Ethelston called as the lords and warlords took their places.
The clanking and scraping of chains echoed through the corridors and irritated the senses even before they had reached the huge oak doors of the great hall.
As the huge doors opened, all eyes focused on the dishevelled and gaunt man whose shackles screamed loudly at his every move. Stepping forward, with guards on either side of him, Loldirr was reminded that today she would be judge, jury and potentially executioner of the man who had been instrumental in the downfall of the Darke dynasty, Kirken Merrithorpe.
There was no shrill laugh, no bout of arrogance from the man that was once the steward of Ravenscourt. Until recently he was also one of the heads of Black Knife Syndicate, a clandestine organisation that had brought grief and hardship to Ravenscourt. He refused to look up, his eyes red and damp, aware that all around the room was pure hostility.
Dragged into the centre of the room, he felt exposed, aware of the resentment oozing from the murmurs of all those around him, yet as he was pushed unceremoniously to the floor, it was the man who stood some ten metres away from him, the man with the most resentment of all, was the one he feared most.
Kirken's wrists and ankles were chaffed and the clunk of the metal chains hitting the floor brought uneasiness to his head which had been bothering him for some time due to a lack of water. His parched lips, cracked and bloody, yearned for the goblets that sat in front of the people intent on watching his suffering, and as his eyes laid upon the redhead to Ethelston's side, he hoped to see pity in her eyes.
There was no kindness in Loldirr's eyes, just what appeared to be the look of a frustrated and disgruntled young woman.
"Kirken Merrithorpe, you have been condemned with treason," called out Ethelston, his bitterness seething in his voice.
"I... I can not be condemned," Kirken's high pitch sequel was hoarse and broken, "I have had no trial."
There was laughter throughout the room, except at the head table.
The silence was instant the moment that Count Ithelred slammed his fist on the table, "SILENCE!". While Ethelston's voice was bitter, Ithelred's was full of hatred. "A trial? Do you deny instigating the manoeuvring of Millendahl Darke as the Duke of Ravenscourt? Do you deny providing detailed information on Duke Edric Darke's security retinue, so assassins could attempt to murder him as they did the Emperor and Queen of Isovine? Do you deny the attempted assassination of Ethelston Darke and the successful assassination of Lady Astrida Darke?"
Ethelston raised his hand slightly, calming the raging Count before his reddened face turned purple. Ethelston took a deep breath, aware that hearing his mother's name after so long had brought him a sadness he thought he had long buried. It wasn't long, though, before his angered focus returned to the man kneeling in the centre of the room.
"And let us not forget the turmoil you have brought to Ravenscourt through the Black Knife Syndicate. No, Kirken Merrithorpe, this is not a trial, you do not have the station or deserve the privilege to receive one, we are here to decide your fate." Ethelston responded.
Loldirr watched as the once blonde hair man looked frightened and devoid of life, yet even as his punishment was to be decided, she could see he was calculating and scheming, determined to somehow get on top of this dire situation.
Ethelston, "What say you, a man who was welcomed with open arms by my father? Placed in a position of authority and trust, which you abused in ways that can not be fathomed!"
Kirken took a long painful gulp, desperate to wet his mouth to speak his words. "You say I have committed treason, yet what I did was all for the man who sits on the throne in Lionmane, a man to who most of you declared allegiance."
Ithelred stood in fury, his goblet flew across the room with such venom it almost shattered when hurtling into the floor. "How dare you insult us with your claims of allegiance."
Ethelston calmly placed his hand on the Knight Inquisitor's arm, eager to steady his anger, but also doing what he could not to stoke his. "Our allegiance has never been in question. All here follow the true lineage of the Isovine Empire, the house of Aex-Igh."
A small sly smile rested itself onto Kirken's face, "Then an Aex-Igh should be one to pass judgment."
Loldirr's green eyes casually focused on the blue-reddened eyes of the prisoner. There was no shock in this turn of events and as other eyes rested in her direction, she knew what she was expected to do.
She couldn't understand his reasoning, whether it was because he was looking for the mercy of a woman, or perhaps hoping for the inexperience of the last living Aex-Igh, all he had done was speed up the inevitable.
Despite Ethelston and Loldirr's objections, Kirken's fate was always going to rest with her. A show of strength and wisdom determined to tell the world what happens to the enemy of the Aex-Igh dynasty and the realm.
Loldirr slowly stood to her feet, just as Ethelston returned to his seat. She could see the hungry eyes of the people within the hall, eager to feast off the punishment that Loldirr would deliver. For many moons, she had dreaded this moment, aware that if she was too lenient, she would be considered weak, too harsh, and she could lose respect.
Yet all of her fears were laid to rest the moment she was informed of her marriage to the Grand Duke of Maetis, Prince Thancred. Now she cared nothing about respect or reputation, now she was eager to make this evil man suffer.
"No one has been wronged more by you than Ethelston Darke, and while I believe he should be one to pass judgment, you are right, the house of Aex-Igh, my house, should be ones to deliver the verdict. For it is my right and duty to bring justice to this land," Loldirr spoke, her words filling the room with an authority that felt foreign to her.
A small smile crept onto Kirken's face, one that appeared like he had won a small victory.
"Edric Darke," she continued, "my guardian, Lord Ethelston's father, taught me many things during my years hidden from society, and one of those teachings was delivering justice to the common man. Yet you are not a common man, are you Kirken Merrithorpe?"
Kirken's narcissism caused his rye smile to ripen, as Loldirr's words filled him with hope.
"For a common man," Loldirr continued, "would not have escorted myself and Lady Erdudvyl to Lionmane, and, in turn, be instrumental in delivering me to my own failed execution. For a common man does not do that, nor does a man of high birth, for a man would not stoop so low to see a woman strapped to the pyre and set ablaze. What say you now Kirken Merrithorpe?"
"I... Uh... Well..." he stuttered, seeing as Loldirr's rage was building up inside of her.
"The last words I spoke to you, as you gloated in my prison cell, do you remember what they were?" Loldirr responded, her anger swirling like a tornado inside of her.
"My lady, please..." Kirken begged.
"Your Empress!" Ithelred demanded angrily.
Loldirr walked around the long wooden table, so there were no obstacles between her and the frightened man in front of her. "Did you pray Kirken, did the gods answer your prayers?"
This time Kirken was silent, his body visibly shaking, and as Loldirr took steps forward toward the treasonous steward, she smiled. "I said I would learn ways to inflict upon you excruciating pain and ensure that you do not die quickly."
Ethelston turned toward Erdudvyl, as the face of the elf looked concerned at Loldirr's desire for revenge, yet it was Ithelred who appeared in complete support of the direction Loldirr was heading.
Loldirr was angry, frustrated with her responsibilities and her expectations, yet it was the thought of marriage to some unknown man that fuelled her fury more than anything else, and that fury would play out in Kirken's punishment.
"You will be taken to the Oubliette," she started, staring down at the frightened Kirken.
"No... no... no" he mumbled, tears dripping down his face.
"You will be thrown down there, a room where you can not stand, can not lie down or even sit. You will spend days upon days in incoherent agony with only the skeletons and rats to keep you company. You will be left there to rot, forgotten, with only your thoughts and pain to keep you company."
Kirken mumbled incoherently, his face blanketed in tears, his stringy hair stuck to his face like a tangled web.
With anger overflowing, Loldirr continued, "No one will know how you die, whether it be starvation, thirst or perhaps your mind will snap like a twig causing you to fall into madness, and no one will care. No one will remember the name Kirken Merrithorpe, you lived a nobody and you will die a nobody, but mark my words, everyone will remember what happens when you double cross an Aex-Igh and her allies."