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To Tread The Straight & Narrow (Mister King & Zoraida)

"You kill my people for your faith so I suppose we should not even continue this conversation," She hissed, her eyes growing dark once again as she supposed that arguing was going to get her nowhere. It'd feel a lot better if she just ate him. She wouldn't feel nearly as bothered by the little worm of a human being if she just skipped the ideas of sucking him dry of semen or continuing this argument and just ate him. She was perfectly capable of that... and yet if she did she'd feel as if she lost the argument.

"You still act as if you humans are so high and mighty, still. Some of my people were created by men's folly and those viciously murdered by your kind. Forget not the in-fighting your race has. How can humans survive? Tell me this. You're not all too strong, you can't fly, you don't have claws, and worst of all you can't cooperate with others much less yourselves." She finally snapped, pushing him down onto the floor and holding him down by one of his shoulders. There was something feral in that gaze, irritated.

"You are nothing but a zealot and a piece of meat aren't you? I am not categorizing those with faith in the same way but you make a lot of assumptions about MY people on MY land without having any knowledge of who we are? Have you ever once gone to a village of Alraune? Have you smelled their sweet aroma, watched them dance and throw petals? Have you ever sparred with a manticore? Felt the snapping quickness of the snake within them? The power of the lion and the determination of the goat? What about visiting a city of Cait Sith? Have you ever heard their playful conversation? You probably haven't even witnessed the majesty of the scylla and merpeople of the sea! Have you done anything aside from attempt to crusade against my kind?" She got up off of him and stood to her feet.

"Have you ever even known that my kind does not simply refer to small race of manticore but also refers to all that you have pushed away and killed. Those whom had previously evolved to have been companions to men. We did not always treat you as sacks of semen that may nourish us. You said what you did and you will pay the consequences. This is why my late mother hated you all so. This is why she clustered us all within the mountains in an attempt to avoid your kind. You do not listen. You speak and you hear nothing and then you completely dismiss me. If you are completely deaf to what I have to say then I shall return to my room."
 
"Once again, harlot, you fall to be wrong." Zahal attempted to keep himself as cool as possible, propping himself up on his elbows while avoiding eye contact with Elowen. His tone remained steady as he resumed his case.

"I haven't held witness to the beautiful customs of your race. I'm neither as strong as you, nor better adapted to this earth. Does this make the struggle of life any easier for us? You may have lost you mother and you have my empathy there, you truly do, but if we stroll down this mountain in a few hours I can point out three children with the same experience, possibly more since I've been gone. The past is the past; whatever relationship our peoples had before is gone. As appealing as unity is, I can't in his conscience be allowing myself to pursue something that unattainable when there are crops to be sown, roofs to be thatched, and civilians to be defended."

He allowed himself to look Elowen in the eyes again, reaching a hand out to clasp her arm at the elbow as he worked himself to his feet. "I envy your priorities and wish I could imitate them, but you are right. I am merely a human among humans, and I must succeed with what I've been dealt."
 
"Then perhaps..." She paused, realizing that maybe there were some things that he was right about. Peace wasn't his job. He was not a ruler among man. It was her concern if it was anyone's. "Perhaps you have me there." Elowen headed to the door, her dark-colored hair flowing behind her as she unlocked it and promptly swung it open before taking his things from a closet. "Go. Return to the children and people. It is useless to keep you here but... return with weapons and I will see to a painful execution." She states simply before crossing her arms.

With such authority in her voice and such confidence it was hard to see that the cold had affected her at all whatsoever. "You are welcome to stay the night seeing as this winter is rather nasty but I will not contain you any longer." Her voice had returned to the cold strength it had when she had initially found Zahal on her land. It was very clearly the voice she used when she was doing her duties as a Duchess.
 
Zahal shivered at the the weather outside. "Thank you, Lady Elowen. I appreciate your h-hospitality." Rubbing at his hands and arms, he stumbled away from the open door towards the fire, motioning for her to close it. "If you don't mind, please let me s-stay one m-more night." He plopped into the armchair, doing his best to heat himself up. Once he had managed to pick himself up to a point where he could stop stammering, he asked her "Where would you have me sleep, lady harlot? I'd prefer to stay out of the cellar, for obvious reasons, but I'd hate to claim the fireside for myself ahead of the gracious hostess." As usual, his demeanor was hard to pin down. It was as if sardonic had permanently fused with his regular tone of voice, making it hard to distinguish where one ended and the other began.
 
"Well..." She paused and thought about it. Truth be told while she's milked plenty of people he had never actually rested beside another. She also had never actually slept with someone in a more intimate sense using anything other than her tail but that was nowhere near her concern, no her concern was being far from her usual castle home where she would be kept warm very easily. "Perhaps if you do not mind the body heat of a harlot we may sleep in my bed. I can understand if you do not trust the situation as I still am what I am but... if you can trust my word I will give it to you that I will not initiate any milking and you may sleep in peace knowing that I will not harm you either." She states, actually holding her paw up and bowing her head down as a sign of respect towards her own words.

"If you know me as anything but a monster you will be well aware of how much pride I take in myself and how sound that my word is when I choose to give it." After that she looked about, "I will head to my room, however. You may make your decision. Either way I am taking my blankets with me." Elowen then calmly gathered up her blankets, threw them over her shoulders and preceded to head to her room dragging them in tow akin to a sleepy child.

The manticore flopped over in her bed, nestling into the blankets and giving a heavy sigh. It had been a long day, an eventful one at that too. If nothing else she had learned of at least one human's views. Perhaps they weren't as terrible as she originally thought. Even though he was at least a little narrow-minded, he wasn't bad. There was hope for both races yet as she saw it for the time being.
 
As his 'host' dragged herself and her covers out of the room, Zahal yawned as the last of the daylight was snuffed out for the night. The knight didn't follow her at first, staying put for a while as he looked back in the day's events, and to a lesser extent the events of the last half-week.

It was a lot to take in, to say the least. In the same day he had shared a meal and a conversation with the enemy, regaining his freedom when all was concluded. As the smoldering flames offered less and less reprieve from the night air, Zahal found himself subtly prodded out of the armchair's refuge and into the harlot's den where comfort and sleep awaited. But first, preparedness. Zahal slipped a thin cooking knife, the one he prepared supper with, into his hand and tucked it by his waist as he slipped into Elowen's bed. He was sure to face away from his host, giving their backs several inches of space under the blanket.

As tiredness encroached on his consciousness, that scent that continued to catch Zahal off-guard made its appearance once again. It wormed its way into the depths of his attention, providing a pleasant background buzz that unnerved him due to its very nature. The more it lingered, the more it grew familiar to the errant knight. The last time he had met that smell was long, long ago, perhaps when he had been either six or seven years old. His mother was alive, his father was happy, and there was no need to beware the threats that lurked in the shadows. That was the last time the world was friendly, if he remembered correctly, when his mother woke him up with a hug and where she was, worry wasn't. As Zahal was reminded of all this, what he'd gone so long without, he finally relaxed. The knife found its way under his pillow as the former captive rolled onto his back, comforted by the return of those memories and feelings he hadn't known in what seemed like a lifetime. Zahal drifted out of consciousness content with the world, and all in it.
 
Elowen didn't find it too difficult to find sleep herself, her own body heat spreading through the well insulated room as her tail flicked contently behind her. The manticore found herself dreaming of sunny fields and making flower crowns, such dreams she would only really finding herself having in the summer. She let off soft purring noises in her sleep for a decent amount of the night and into the morning.

When she awoke she was more than surprised to see that her former prisoner was still there and still continuing to sleep. Her tail began to twitch with a casual thought that was here nor there about that occasional taste for human seed that would run through her mind. He may not even wake up if she-... no... that was wrong. She was a noble for crying out loud and she needed to hold herself in such a manner. Perhaps those servants or perhaps they were perverts that willingly let her kind feed off of them were appropriate but a random house guest was not.

With her mind made up, going against the instincts of her rather fussy tail, she walked back out into her living room to start the fire back up. It was usually easier in the castle when she would simply have the salamanders light them for her.
 
Well-rested for the first time in a long while, Zahal sat up from the comfortable bed and rubbed his temples to help wake himself up and get blood flowing. The absence of the manticore and the sharp strikes in the other room gave him an idea as to what she was doing, so he slid himself out of the bed and walked out of her bedroom to begin his day.

Still stirring himself awake, he greeted his host with a "Good morning, Lady Elowen" as cheerfully as he could. Granted, it wasn't as kind and energetic as he had ever been, but he tried. He slowly squatted down by the fireplace aside her, doing his best to retain balance. Once he was confident he wouldn't fall he took a moment to correct his raven, barely-kept hair with his fingers. As he inhaled, he caught only a bit of the comforting smell that he had fallen asleep to the previous night. There was a brief shiver from his muscles as Zahal adjusted from the comfort of her bed to her presently guarded demeanor. "Are you doing well on this crisp, cheerful morning?" He offered a smile to go with his words, which would either warm her or prod her depending on how she was feeling, something Zahal wished to know.
 
"I'm doing quite alright, Sir Zahal." She responds with a calm demeanor, placing a small pot of water over the fireplace for her morning tea. "And how might you be?" She asks, her tail squirming about behind her. At that the manticore narrows her eyes and gives a heavy sigh, smacking the tail back behind her. Unfortunately this was not odd behavior for the lady whenever she had those sorts of cravings and especially if the scent of a strong male wafted to her nose.

"Right well I suppose you'll be going soon. If you'd like you may take a meal from the kitchen, I'm sure there's something you could go for that'll at least make your journey somewhat easier." She suggests with a small shrug as she heads in there herself to pick out the tea she would be enjoying this morning. She silently thought to herself to lock the door so that she may head back to her manor that was built on the side of the mountain. Not only was she hungry but there was much to be done. There were her people to appease and protect. Perhaps this break still was just as pleasant as it would have if she were alone but unfortunately if Zahal didn't get out of there soon she feared her tail might start making decisions for her.

"However considering I'm leaving too I'd suggest you head out soon." She narrows her eyes at the tail that was creeping around her to say hello which she smacks out of the way once more. She would have been a lot more embarrassed if she had noticed it was dripping. "And if you leave soon you may not have to deal with some of my people. There's a hunting party that comes around these parts at noon and... well I consider myself pretty tame around humans but I wouldn't know so much about them."
 
The first time Elowen played with her tail, Zahal didn't notice. He watched her prepare the tea for a while, then cleared his throat and turned away when he realized he was staring at her ... tracts of land more than anything else. It didn't help that the cool morning air stimulated his senses, making her already tempting body all the more harder to resist. He caught himself, though, and his hands snapped into a cross over his chest to keep his mind anchored.

From that, questions grew. The harlot was indeed lovely, from her round, firm breasts hanging perfectly from her chest to the way her tapered waist flowed out into her fertile hips (assuming, of course, the creatures were indeed fertile). Which tailed into another thought: would it be moral to desire a heathen such as her? Sex with them would defeat the purpose of human reproduction, at least based on rumors Zahal picked up from travelling, which would pervert a pure human urge into fueling a different, savage species. But what if the purpose of his desires were simply a manifestation of the way he appreciated beauty? Indeed beauty (with regards to sex and attraction) is a largely relative concept with its foundation in universally positive traits with the nuances depending on the experiences and eccentricities of the beholder, and seeing as Lady Elowen and most heathen in general ticked many of those boxes (and boy did they tick them boxes hard), it wouldn't seem immoral for a human male to be attracted to them seeing as there was no choice but to instinctively respond to those biological impulses. Wait, why was Elowen slapping her tail? Nevertheless, the question of copulation rears its head again as ... Zahal noticed Elowen's ears and his boner died (both literally and metaphorically).

If there is a lesson to be learned for this: getting a good night's sleep can inadvertently prepare you for complex ethical debates with oneself at too early an hour.

As Zahal's head was too busy being filled with whatever it was being filled with, much of the manticore's advice slipped past his ears. He did hear something about leaving, though, as a group of the harlot's cohorts would be arriving shortly. "I thank you for your hospitality, Lady," placing a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to establish a connection, although once it was halfway extended Zahal was wracked by anxieties of making the conversation unbearably awkward but his arm was already halfway extended so it was already too late to turn back so he placed it on her shoulder anyway. You totally couldn't tell Zahal was having any of these thoughts by his facial expressions, though.

"and if you don't mind waiting a bit for breakfast, I need to cleanse myself. It's been a while since I last bathed, honestly, and I'm feeling the need for one right now." Zahal noticed her tail twitch at the mention of the bath, and her constant swatting of it suggested a ritual (perhaps related to a biological cycle? He needed to ask about that later) so he joined in and quasi-playfully knocked it away before snatching a towel from his pack and making his way over to the stream he passed a while back.
 
"Keehee hee... lookit that one... ripe for the pickin and in our huntin territory like that... I can't wait to eat him..." The girls remained far enough away from the currently-bathing Zahal to be able to quietly whisper amongst themselves. The one that had spoken was a rather finely-toned Salamander by the name of Shira, her eyes filled with an intense bloodlust. However, the expression was quickly smacked right off her face as the Centaur, Penelope hit the salamander with her bow.

"Do you truly believe that's a brilliant idea? This is the Lady Elowen's territory. She deserves a share and this is... quite the find." Penelope whispered in response to Shira. "It's only fair. Right, Rochell?" The centaur turned over to the slime girl currently staring at Zahal from behind a tree.

"I mean... can't I hold him and touch him all over before we give him to Lady Elowen. I won't kill him," The blue slime whispered softly to the other two. "I could easily slink up from up river and float down to him. He wouldn't even be aware I was there until he was all wrapped up in me~" Rochell was quickly becoming nothing more than a puddle with a rather... distracted-looking face.

Shira narrowed her eyes and whispered softly, "if we're hunting human why did we bring her along? She get's far too splooshy when humans are around. He'll be able to hear her from a mile away." Penelope could not help but agree with the salamander's logic there and gathered up a few of their more agile hunters and sent them to bind and retrieve the prey currently washing himself in the river. The group came as close as they could without exposing themselves before jumping at the first chance they could get to grab him and hold him still.
 
Immersing himself fully in the river's current, all of the repressed thoughts of the past few days hit Zahal in a single wave. His mind overflowed with nagging suspicions, sudden realizations, and overwhelming anxieties with a peppering of cognitive dissonance to boot. As soon as he brought his face up for air he dunked it back down again until he was in a position where he could breathe and let the water flow over him at the same time. The stream slowed things down. It separated the thoughts until they were distinct. It made them easy to handle, focus on, and extinguish. Zahal could breathe, now. All was in order.

From nowhere hands latched onto his broad shoulders and neck, snapping his mind out of order and into a frenzy. He grabbed the neck of the intruder behind him, lunging down and flipping the assailant over his back with the momentum and into the stream above him. Zahal wailed into their torso with punches as they grappled in the water until he was interrupted by more hands grabbing at his back. Spinning around, the knight was rushed by the squadron of mamono as they piled onto him and held his head below the water until he was fully subdued. The abominations tied up the knight and carried on their merry way.
 
"Ooh he's so cute~ Are we sure we have to give him to Lady Elowen?" Rochelle asks as she slides one of her gelatinous fingers across his body, "I'm sure there's pleeeenty of stuff I could eat from his... endowment and still have plenty for her..." She looks up at Penelope.

"No!" The Centaur hisses, carrying one end of the pole Zahal was currently being hung by, a rather silent Oni woman holding the other end. The look on her face makes it clear that she is questioning the intelligence of her hunting party but does not think it is worth the oxygen to speak up.

"Do you think she's even home though? If she's not in the cabin, I say he already looks mighty nice on that spit... hang him over a campfire and I'll have myself a delicious barbeque!" Shira calls out excitedly, the fire on her tail flaring up as she eyes up the knight dangling from the rope. While most of the girls give him rather lustful looks or ignore him all together, it was obvious that Shira was a true predator. Yes, the Salamander had no interest other than consuming his flesh and the hunger within her eyes made that all the more apparent. Alas, Penelope would keep her in check with another swift knock on the back of her head.

"Can you think of nothing but your stomach you incessant brute?" She hisses, "What would you like to be considered on the same level as him as far as savages go?"

"Wh-... who you callin a savage?" She hisses, her tail flaring up once more before Rochelle starts to gently pat her back, the slime girl's cool form calming the heat of the fired up warrior-lizard all while causing a small amount of steam to form from their bodies.

"Shira... it's okay we can hunt more later... enough for us both to have a feast. Me on the delicious juices of an aroused man and you on the delicious blood from their veins." Rochelle says quietly with a small smile upon her face. This quiets Shira and allows them to travel quickly up to the cabin of Lady Elowen.
 
The rhythmic bouncing of his bondage took its sweet time lulling Zahal out of his sleep.  His eyes slid shut immediately as yellow beams of sun broke through, causing pain.  The holy knight noticed his restrained position and sighed, caught yet again by these savages without so much as wiggle room.  He flexed himself to the best of his ability, given the circumstances, but he took his time, slowing his movements as to not disturb the warband. Zahal rolled his neck around to stretch it out and to get his blood flowing.

The bickering voices drew his attention, and when he was coherent enough to understand their words, they drew his ire as well. These maomono were driven sorely by their loins and their bellies, and it was a pitiful sight to see these attempt to function as a disciplined unit. Perhaps the only thing more pitiful was the fact Zahal was their prisoner. He consoled himself with the fact that they had gotten the drop on him and he was disadvantaged, but neither statement kept his wrists from chafing or suppressed the motion sickness. All Zahal could do was clench down on his gag as the fiends carried him back to the captivity from which he had finally been freed.
 
The travel was rather long and the water began to grow colder and colder the further up the mountain they traveled, but the time seemed to pass quicker than one might expect simply due to the slime's quick traversing down the river. Considering the personalities, it seemed as if Penelope was the only one able to hold herself together. To her, it was simply a job to her. A job she couldn't currently believe she was doing. She was usually a soldier of Lady Regimontem's army but had been assigned to guard quite possibly the most miserable town anyone would have to deal with.

The Lady Manticore was more than happy to finally be back at the castle. Having refreshed her mind with willing human servants as well as the conversation she had with the strange soldier, she was pretty much on a roll with demands that would actually go towards a better world for her kind. She sent out her spriest harpy scout to navigate towards one of the larger human cities so that perhaps they could be civilized things and actually reach a much more political agreement. This was not something she had discussed with everyone amongst her court and made well sure that those who shouldn't know didn't.

As Elowen took a seat on her throne and finally began to relax, her progressive nature was quickly becoming a lot less pleasant when Penelope and a hunting party had come through the door. "Penelope. It's good to-" The Lady's eyes soon narrowed when her gaze met the pathetically sexed up slime girl as well as the Salamander. "Oh..." As if the encounter could not get any worse, Elowen then looked at what they had been carried. Having hoped that Zahal was long since behind her made this entire meeting less than appreciated.

"...The lot of you are idiots."
 
welcome at this point, at least for Zahal. The beasts binding him hadn't been courteous enough to properly clothe him, so by the time he was carried to his destination the knight was chattering and shivering and in general a mess. Steam gently arose from his flesh when the doors barred the exit with a crash and sheening perspiration started to coat his exposed skin.

He had kept his eyes closed for much of the journey. Partly this was because he didn't need to see; they were steadily going upwards and kept within hearing distance of the river, so retracing his steps once he broke loose would be easy. The other was more practical: hehad to focus himself. The whores' ambush had jarred him and interrupted his thoughts, but time on the trail have his a chance to focus and think again. He didn't necessarily like what he saw.

As the landscape changed from dirt paths to stone floors, the number of nearby footsteps Zahal could hear dropped sharply, despite the volume. They all vanished but for his captors after a while, and there was a light silence until the rebuking began. "I know, right?" Zahal leaned sideways so he could quasi-properly engage the speaker. "It's as if they're all-" He recognized the manticore's face and all his muscles went slack, ending his wit as well as his hopes.

Fuck.
 
Elowen gave a heavy sigh as she approached the lady Centaur. Unlike the garb she had been wearing while within the cabin, this was actually a rather lovely red dress which accommodated her wings and had no sleeves. However, it was long enough to cover her monstrous legs and feet and had a bustle that covered her tail. She truly did look like the Lady she had claimed to be. While she knew that the group had gotten out of hand without her awares, Elowen knew that Penelope was in charge of the group and that the centaur would not accept it as anyone's fault but her own. "I do not need this one. I have plenty of willing humans. Besides, did you not notice this one was a soldier you bloody fools?" She hisses out, "You do realize that him being held up for so long could spell trouble for our entire land. YES?"

"L-lady Regimontem... I simply thought-" She's cut off and Elowen shakes her head.

"Do NOT let it happen once more." She then looks down at Zahal, blinking a few times before finally addressing him, "Z-... Soldier. You appear to be freezing right now. I'll have my personal servant draw you a bath. Worry not for she has no draw to your biology in general. You can then warm up and I will speak with you so that we may find you a quick way home. Your kind will not have means to war with us and we may all return to what is normal for us. As far as your troops, Penelope... I shall trust your punishment for poor judgement be just. However, as far as humans are concerned. Chase them away, fight them, kill them if they put up too much trouble but do not capture them for feed. If they have reason to think we need them and need them as slaves to survive they will simply fight us. Does this NOT seem logical, woman."

"Yes it does m'lady. I will always follow your command."

"As you should!"
 
Zahal couldn't help but feel a slight catharsis as his captors were chastised; the cold had exposed his vindictiveness somewhat. Nevertheless he couldn't help but be concerned at Lady Elowen's pronouncement. Assuming there was a mamono that was trustworthy by his standards is a laughable error, but now he was boxed in with limited alternatives. The harlot wasn't happy and, although it frustrated him, her favor was the only reason the knight had anything approaching hope.

As the Lady left him on his own vulnerability crept into the knight's soul, spurred on by the absence of his armor. A quiet shuffling from behind startled him, an uncharacteristic response, but all it happened to be was the attendant Elowen had promised to him. Much like her, the servant was a manticore, although far younger than her mistress and not nearly as confident. She beckoned him with a wave of her hand and the words "The b-bath chambers are this way, sir", not even bothering to hide her meekness. As he turned to follow her she led him off with small strides, both the hem of her dress and her own tail bumping the cold stone often.

Even though the small, pre-teen maiden had more reason to be uneasy around the knight, given his powerful frame and hardened body, Zahal couldn't shake the vulnerability triggered by his unarmored attire. It wasn't that he was clad in cloth instead of steel per se, but it had more to do with the lack of protection he currently enjoyed. He was in an unfamiliar country without allies or a singular mission with naught but the word of his captor as protection. He didn't like being this fragile, but his racing mind wasn't providing him with any alternatives.

The petite manticore brought him to the bath chambers, where she began to prepare water for him and instructed him to strip. It turns out Elowen had been right after all, as the young servant was clearly more nervous about setting Zahal naked than he was exposing himself. At least, if he still had the ability to be worried about such trivial matters (relatively) things might have been different. The pair were able to clean and refresh the traveler without incident, and once the knight had been dressed and prepared with a simple, albeit handsome cream tunic his attendant meekly guided him to where her mistress was waiting. Much like before Zahal hadn't much to ask the duchess, merely "Why are you keeping me here?", but this time he expected the answer to be more ... detailed than the last time they met.
 
"Simple. I can't win whether I let you go or kill you at the time." Elowen replies with a small shrug. Now that there was no one about to hear their conversation she began speaking much more directly about the situation, "Should I let you go now that my people are aware of your presence they will see me as... weak and as a fool-hearted Duchess too kind for her position. However should I kill you, my kind would likely face all-out war with yours. Believe it or not but I'd also rather not kill you in general. So... I suppose whatever I choose to do must be direct and careful... but not so careful so as to be seen as too fidgety. Now... considering it is only us and my handmaiden here at the time I wouldn't mind actually discussing this with you. Surely you can see why I can't just get a couple of draconics to fly you off to the nearest human village and drop you there unharmed?"

While she had previously been so confident, at the time the lovely, curvaceous manticore was now pacing throughout the room. The small train on her dress dragging along the ground as her tail swished about. "Mmm... the only temporary ordeal I would be comfortable with would be keeping you as a servant of sorts... more so of entertainment purposes. I no longer keep males as pets for their semen as I am also a carnivorous creature but... at least until I can give rational to my people as to why I am letting you go, you'd basically serve as someone to play cards and chess with. Does this sound at the very least bearable to you? You will not be harmed or even touched and I will make that absolutely clear. If I am not there to accompany you personally, my handmaiden will be. She may not look it but she can easily beat back some desperate creature not in control of her loins."
 
"A servant?" Zahal would have burst into cruel laughter had he not been filled with disdain. He hadn't raised his voice; it was still a conversational tone, but he filled his words with an intensity that gave them a gravity so great he might as well have roared them. "You may as well kill me. Let your politicking be damned, harlot, and stick with your principles. None are willing to shed much blood for me, and even if that were the case it wouldn't change a thing."

His posture shifted and he straightened up, his shoulders slightly broader and his head slightly taller as he faced Elowen and looked her in the eye. "You loathe me. I despise you. This is the way we have been, and this is the way we will be. When I took up my sword years ago I knew how I would end, and now that end is here. I lost, duchess, now play the game by the rules and have me killed." The passion in his voice had faded and a stoic sense of command had replaced it as he spoke.
 
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