Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 81261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81261 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Important words that rang out for all to hear, that she would rule by my side with equal weight and authority. Nyssa didn’t want that responsibility, but no one else needed to know that. My public statement was meant to help keep her safe and secure as she melds into this new life with me.
Lifting her chin and looking down at the fae watching the judgment on the other side of the river, she proclaims, “The recently departed will step forward, one by one, and receive the grace or vengeance of our esteemed ruler. Prepare yourselves.”
The guards pull the first wretch forward. I lean back on my throne, lazily resting my chin in my hand as I watch Nyssa do her job with a pride that makes my chest swell.
A young man, at most in his early twenties, is thrown at her feet. He looks up at her with fear and awe, tears streaming down his face.
“Alec Leonard,” she says as she consults the ancient-looking document in her hand. “You’ve been charged with the sin of rape, on not one but three occasions. How black is your soul?”
The man starts babbling, begging for mercy. Nyssa squats before him, a move that makes her ass look unfathomably good in those leather pants, and studies him. She’s looking into his eyes to see if there’s any chance of redemption.
Granted, since Nyssa started helping me on the bridge, she’s shown to have a softer heart than I do. Zora hasn’t seemed to mind the increase in requests for reincarnation, so I don’t begrudge Nyssa the tiny mercies she seeks.
The fact that this man is a rapist, though, is pretty much a guarantee he’s going over the edge. Her past can’t help but play a role.
However, even if she were inclined to grant him grace, I’m not going to do it. Every rapist goes into the river, no matter what.
Nyssa stands and looks at me. The crowd of Dark Fae below hold their breath as they watch her.
She holds out her arm, waits for a few dramatic seconds, and gives me the thumbs-down sign.
It’s an indication the fae are indeed starting to love Nyssa as they cheer before I even flick the guy over the edge. The roar of approval makes me smile, and I wave my hand, careening the doomed man off the bridge. His screams are barely heard over the whooping fae, who don’t quiet until after the ground stops rumbling in gratitude for the sacrifice.
Nyssa winks at me and turns to the next unlucky soul.
* * *
It’s not often that Nyssa and I are separated in the castle. Issues regarding her safety have been worked out, for the most part. Over the few months she’s been back in the Underworld with me, she’s not only gained favor among the Dark Fae, but I’ve sufficiently protected her with stone magic.
To keep her from aging, and in essence granting her immortality, Circe gifted her with the stone pendant. As long as she wears it, she remains at her current age and doesn’t succumb to sickness. It also provides her protection from physical harm as well as grants her nominal powers, such as the ability to bend distance—which also keeps her safe—as well as conjuring, although she doesn’t use either very much.
I could’ve given all these things to Nyssa myself. The powers Zora bestowed upon me are godlike, but Circe offered the gift, and I wasn’t about to anger her by refusing.
I check Nyssa’s usual haunts—the new library I built with some nifty magic and a massive import of books from the First Dimension, then the outdoor gardens I built and which she maintains, and lastly, the kitchens.
It’s there that I find her at one of the large stoves teaching Rhynda the fine art of cooking. She dumped the leather outfit in favor of some leggings and a button-down, her hair pulled into a ponytail. I don’t know what they’re preparing, but I smell garlic and lemon, and I know I’ll be eating well tonight.
I lean against one of the work tables, my presence causing great discomfort to the workers, and watch with a barely concealed grin as my little human teaches a fae ravager.
“Now, we pour in a little white wine.” Nyssa tips a bottle while Rhynda bends over the pan. Steam rises, and she inhales. “We’ll let this simmer for about ten minutes to burn off the alcohol.”
“That makes sense,” Rhynda says with a serious nod.
I duck my head, rub my hand over my mouth to conceal the smile that won’t be contained, but I can’t hold back the snicker.
Nyssa and Rhynda look over their shoulders at me. Nyssa rolls her eyes, and Rhynda snaps to attention.
Handing the spoon to Rhynda, the new queen of the Underworld instructs, “Put the chicken cutlets in there after the alcohol has burned off. Squeeze some more lemon over it and a few tablespoons of the capers.”