I was pulled into the throne room by two of the burliest guards I've ever seen. "Let her go." said a low voice from across the large but empty room. I have heard that voice before, but not since I was 8, when my parents were murdered for treason. I peered towards the darkness, in the direction of the throne, only to find an outline of a large figure, sprawled across the overwhelming and gaudy chair. "What do you want," I sneered at the dark figure. He chuckled darkly, before rising to his feet and leaving the protection of the shadows, showing me his face. "Now Vasilisa, that's not how you treat your mate, is it."