Four flights of stairs later, the guards stopped outside a set of doors, three times taller than Bastian and carved with vines and swirls and flowers. It was beautiful. Exquisite. Far too delicate to contain a woman like Stacia.
The man who stood like a mountain and cast a shadow just as wide stepped between Bastian and the doorway. "You will stand before the queen and you will tell her how the fog fell. You will tell her why. You will tell her anything she asks or my foot won't be on your nuts this time. It'll be up your ass. I assure you, you don't want that."
So she was in there. Behind the doors as beautiful as a summer's day. Bastian found that ironic. It was the last place he would have looked for her. Maybe that was the point. A beast hidden by beauty.
The doors swung wide open. One guard stood behind the queen, his breeches around his ankles, her dress lifted. "Come in. We're almost done here." She looked over her shoulder. "Well, finish up, will you?"
He stood there, jaw dropped, hands shaking on her hips.
"Intimidated by a little audience, are you? Then stop, by all means. I'll get it done elsewhere." Stacia elbowed him. The guard stumbled backward, his manhood limp. He fumbled with his breeches for a moment. Bastian couldn't bear to watch. It was embarrassing for everyone by the reactions from the other guards. Perhaps Stacia was the only one who took it in stride. "And don't leave. Stand next to me while they present the prisoner."
The guard nodded. He attempted to stand up straight, but it was clear he'd been shamed in front of his fellow guards. Bastian almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
Stacia walked away from her throne toward Bastian. Her eyes narrowed and she tilted her head to the side. "I know you, don't I?"
Bastian didn't respond. He only stared, hoping against all hope that his strength would return. The closer she got, the more he ached to strangle her. He wanted to wrap his fingers around her snowy neck and squeeze until her eyes rolled in the back of her head and her last breath escape her red lips. His blood pumped. His eyes grew wider. Adrenaline filled his veins.
"You're the boy I captured months ago." One black fingernail danced across his chest. "Though not so much a boy anymore, are you? Remind me again why I let you go."
Bastian's lips didn't move.
She laughed. "You weren't as worthy as your friend. You may have been bigger, stronger, but your friend had a quality you always lacked. Perhaps it was intelligence."
Stacia's eyes searched Bastian's face. He refused to offer a reaction.
"And there was a girl with you. A homely girl with brown hair and small breasts. Did the two of you run off into the forest together and drown yourselves in each other? Enjoy a little carnal snack based off bloodlust? Did seeing your friend die finally throw her into your arms?"
She pulled her hand back and laughed. "It did. I can see that in your eyes." Stacia spun around. The hem of her turquoise dress brushed against his breeches. "Where is she now?"
Even if he knew, he wouldn't tell her.
Stacia's lower lip jutted out. "Aw. You don't know, do you? Did she leave you in the middle of the night? Head out to find a man who reminded her more of your friend instead of you? Strength can only take a man so far. There has to be something going on up there." She tapped her head with a fingertip.
Stacia turned to the mountain of a man. "How beaten is he?"
He bowed. "Enough, my queen. He will not be able to fight back."
"Excellent execution of my orders, Marden. Then leave. I want to be alone with him."
"My queen, that isn't wise." He stood between Bastian and Stacia. "I would not advise it."
"I can take care of myself, Marden. One man cannot defeat me."
"Very well." Marden snapped his fingers. "Follow me."
"And leave just the guard outside my door. You men did well today. Head out to the tavern and find yourselves whores. On my coin." Stacia grabbed a small silken purse and tossed it to the man.
"Thank you, my queen." He gripped the sack in his massive palm as if losing it would mean losing life and limb. Marden motioned to the other guards and they followed him out the door.
Bastian stood in the center of the marble room. Columns rose high above them. Silks draped the walls, cascading like the branches of the trees outside the windows.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Stacia sidled up to him, not close enough to be within reach. He'd have to lunge and he wasn't sure he had the strength for that yet. "I grew up here, climbing in the branches, swaying from the limbs. Leaves and dirt would get stuck in every crevice and my mother would force to me to spend as much time bathing as I'd spent playing out there."