Breaking her was his privilege and his duty. He couldn’t believe they’d snatched her away: the pride of her kingdom, the symbol of all they stood for. And he was the one who got to shatter her. He was the one who’d get to tarnish her gleam forever.
Her wrists and ankles were clasped. A blindfold covered her eyes. Her mouth was similarly veiled. Don’t let her look at you, they’d said. Don’t let her touch you. Don’t let her speak. She was formidable, this one. There were fearsome whispers of how she treated disloyal subjects—what she did to those who dared oppose her. Give her even a little leeway, the officers had decided, and she would wreak havoc on all their plans.
Not that he entirely believed those superstitions, mind. He knew exactly what to do with lovely women. He knew what it would take to break a prisoner such as this.
“We’ll have to maim you,” he told her, sighing regretfully. “I’m afraid we can’t keep you intact. That’s on you, love, not us. You’re too potent. As a woman, and as a symbol. If you weren’t as admirable as you are, we wouldn’t have to take nearly as stringent a set of precautions.”