t h i r t y - s e v e n

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Remi forced herself to bark out a laugh, attempting a tactic she hoped would work. "Do you really think me so weak, as to assume that I'm unable to control my own slave? He isn't saying anything that he isn't allowed to say."

Lord Wallathore fixed his trembling lips in a hard, thin line and attempted to steel his gaze. "You're threatening us."

"Nah, I just happen to have a sense of humour. I also don't have a stick up my ass," she replied, becoming annoyed with herself as soon as the words came out of her mouth. She felt like biting her tongue until it bled. Insulting these men wouldn't do her any favours.

Again, quite a few people gasped in horror at her words, bristling to themselves.

Even Remi herself wasn't sure where she was getting all this confidence from. She was in a room full of the city's most powerful men—absolute psychopaths, and yet she was speaking without fear. It was going to get her killed.

She supposed it probably had something to do with the Icix leaning casually against the wall behind her, watching her with his beautiful, icy eyes. She wanted him to know that she was different from the rest of these men, and that she didn't support all the wrong things they did, and that she was strong enough to stand up for those who couldn't.

Remi decided to get straight to the point. She leaned forward in her seat, propping up her elbows on the glossy table and resting her chin on her hands. "I'm going to be direct with you all, because all this beating around the bush is unproductive."

"Do tell," Lord Corinth muttered, rolling his eyes at her, as if she were a fly wasting his time and he couldn't wait to swat her out of existence. He clearly didn't view her as a threat.

"As a reward for his obedience, I give my Icix slave freedom to do as he wishes, as long as his wishes aren't dissimilar from my own. Lord Gallanthus died because he massacred almost an entire race of creatures. And truly, who was I to oppose his death? His mutilated wives wouldn't have."

Lord Juke, a renowned weapons dealer, raised a skeptical, white brow. "He provided those wives with life, gave them food and shelter. Surely that's enough."

Remi scoffed. "Food, to replenish them after he'd beat them so bad that they couldn't fulfil his desires any further. Shelter? More like a prison so that they couldn't escape his grasp. In my opinion, some fates are worse than death. However, it seems as though we've gotten off topic."

"Indeed," Cynfael agreed, pursing his lips. "Go on, Goldridge. Get to the point."

She nodded at him. "Although I don't agree with many of the things that most of you do, none of you have done anything to personally impede my goals. Therefore, I have no reason to come after you. If any of you decide to get in my way, that will change—and I'm sure that you'd return the favour if I were to get in the way of one of you."

"Of course we would," Lord Sookie cackled, clutching his aching stomach. Though his smile was wide, child-like, and teasing, his eyes were cold and deadly as he spoke, his voice cheery, "You'd be dead in an instant."

"As is to be expended," Remi nodded, appearing cool and collected on the outside, but inwardly deeply rattled by the young-looking lord. "That is the way things work."

"And your Icix?" Lord Wallathore blurted, his beady eyes on the dark creature watching his master like a hawk. "Does he wish us dead?"

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