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Chapter Eight

Behind the safety of her mask, Reema scanned her eyes up and down the Escadian princess in the dim light. She was smaller than she'd anticipated, perhaps several inches shorter than the queen herself, and her overall physical frame itself struck as almost delicate. In some ways she appeared every bit the refined, girlish princess she was, but the queen knew enough to understand she was a force to be reckoned with. Anyone who could dispatch a chimera was worthy of not only the queen's grudging respect, but her wariness. It was impossible to really see the woman's face beneath the war paint, but the angry, narrowed eyes betrayed the captive princess' anger. She hadn't responded to Reema's inquiry from the moments before, but she found she wasn't all that surprised. The poor creature was probably still in shock at realizing she was trapped—and Reema smirked when she surmised Althea's pride was probably stinging a bit as well.

"This truly is the ultimate pleasure, Lady Angevin," Reema began, spinning away from the captives and beginning to pace before them. "You've made quite the nuisance of yourself, you know. My heart does beat a bit faster at knowing I finally have my kingdom's little blight contained at last."

"Listen, lady," the princess scoffed, seeming to have found her voice, "the only blight on this kingdom is you."

"You will address me by my proper title, Princess," Reema warned, her voice low.

"Your Royal Wickedness?"

Reema's head cocked slightly to one side as she stepped into the royal's personal space, and behind the mask, she smiled.

"It's a shame your legs couldn't run as fast as your mouth, Princess. Perhaps if they had, you and your pet would not be in this...predicament." Her hand found its way to the princess' thigh and she clutched it, burrowing her thumb into the space between the fresh, haphazard sutures of her wound and ripping them open again. The woman immediately dropped to her knees, hissing in pain, the jaguars releasing her and moving aside as Reema followed the collapsing form to the ground. She placed her face next to the princess' ear, the cold metal of the mask almost touching her. "It's 'Your Majesty,' Miss Angevin. Refer to me as anything else and you will never see Escadus again." She sat back now, twisting her thumb once more in the wound before removing it. "Or do your deficiencies in good judgment extend to your capacity for obedience as well?"

"We have questions for you, Your Majesty," bit the wounded princess, her voice punctuated by occasional gasps of pain. The queen was rather irritated that the woman did not react to her quips, but reasoned that was in part due to her nature as a leader of the Escadian Guard. Reactivity was dangerous at the best of times—being reactive under pressure or while captive was hardly ideal. The queen stood, crossing her hands over her chest and peering down at her through the mask.

"Were you expecting me to answer them, dear?"

Hazel's voice broke in from where she was still pinned between Thiago's antlers.

"We came for information, Your Majesty. Nothing more."

Surprised to hear the princess' second speak, Reema turned her head in her direction.

"A curious claim by one whose arrow killed one of my guards less than an hour ago," replied the queen, allowing just the tiniest bit of unrefined malice to seep through into her tone. "Fortunately, I am nothing if not fair in my response to such things. What is it, Gulliver?" She turned to the great red bear, who lumbered forward. "A life for a life? Isn't that it?"

"Yes my queen, I believe that's correct," responded the bear, and he directed his attention to the stag now. "Gore her, Thiago."

As the stag moved, Althea's voice crackled back to life.