“This
is it,” she said under her breath. “The moment of truth.”
Not the
moment of actual truth—she for one certainly would not be
telling that. Not all of it. Not even if she were broken.
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The sand
whispered and eddied below the low-hovering platform at her feet as
she passed, the imposing form of the palace-plex having now come into
full view.
She knew
that meant that she, herself, had now come into full view as well.
The
master’s guard would soon be upon her.
She felt
her senses pique as she anticipated her inevitable apprehension, and
she fought not to show it. The best defense would be a convincing
display of innocence.
How
would the master accept her? Would the master accept her?
He, the warlord, had never been known to suffer fools … or be
willing to be made one of. For his entire oppressive reign, from his
bloody, terrible rise to power and before, the master had made it
abundantly clear. The burden of suffering would be borne on
the backs of any fools who would dare cross him or his dominion.
The man
and his dominion … they were one and the same, actually. A
universal truth?
A smile
pursed her lips.
As
universal as any.
Hopefully
so … her reason for being depended on it. He needed to need her,
to want her back. To be less concerned about her whereabouts and the
circumstances of her disappearance … than having back in his hand
that which was his.
So his.
He had
proclaimed her the crown jewel of his court—not before the court,
but the court knew it all the same.
It had
to be eating him alive, being without her … living without
sustenance. It had to be eating him alive.
It had
to be.
###
Copyright
2014 Cock and Bull Publishing, LLC
This piece appears in the ebook Harlowe Pilgrim's Oh My Words! 2014.
Harlowe Pilgrim’s books are available at Amazon, iBooks,
Smashwords.com, Books-A-Million, and most other online booksellers.
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