The duke tilted his head toward his undead wife. “They’re all yours.” The two continued to speak, while various courtiers looked upset or uncomfortable.

Janel rejoined Qown.

“Are you all right?” Qown leaned toward her.

“Ask me again later,” Janel said. “Why was everyone staring at me?”

“Because you’re the first woman to ever be given that particular honor,” Thurvishar D’Lorus said. “My apologies. I couldn’t help but hear the question.”

Janel started to respond, then stopped and blinked. “I remember you from the banquet. D’Lorus, yes? The Academy?”

“The same,” Thurvishar responded. He started to say more but paused and looked toward the duke instead.

At that moment, Duke Kaen turned his attention back to Janel and gestured toward Sir Oreth. “And what about this one? Shall you plead mercy in his case as well?”

Sir Oreth blinked. “Me? Wait, I thought we’d agreed it was the women—”

“Be quiet,” Duke Kaen ordered. “Do you want him to live?”

“Him?” She raised an eyebrow, incredulous.

Sir Oreth’s eyes widened. “Janel, please—”

“Three times,” she told Oreth. “Three times you have moved against me. The first time, you tried to force me to be your mare. The second time, you took my lands. The third time, you tried to take my life.”

“Janel, damn it, it wasn’t like that! Would you just listen to me? I did nothing wrong. I had nothing to do with this! This is ridiculous!”

She turned back to the duke. Only Brother Qown could see the tremor—rage—moving through her fingers. “No mercy from me. Do with him as you wish, Your Grace.”

The duke nodded. “He’s all yours, Xivan.”

“What? No!” Sir Oreth pulled out his sword, pointing it in the undead woman’s direction as she approached.

“I agree. It’s better to go to your death with a sword in your hands.” Xivan Kaen unsheathed her own sword. She used a curved Khorveshan blade, very different from Oreth’s straight sword.

Brother Qown looked away. “I can’t watch this.”

As it happened, he didn’t have to. No sooner had he averted his gaze than metal hit the ground followed by a grunting noise. When Qown glanced back, shocked, he saw Sir Oreth had been disarmed. Xivan Kaen held him by the throat. He writhed and tried to break her grip, without success.

And a glowing light trailed from his eyes and mouth to the duchess while the entire hall watched in silence.

It took seconds or an eternity, depending on how one measured such things. When Xivan finished, she dropped his corpse to the ground. Xivan looked haler already; her skin didn’t appear so blue, her cheeks had filled out. She almost passed for someone alive.

“We’re done here,” the duke announced.

45: THE SPURNED

Jorat Dominion, Quuros Empire. Three days since Kihrin’s story ended … for a little while