Heena ignored the weeping ball of fur in her mind, her eyes locked onto the heavy iron door at the end of the escape tunnel. She threw her hood up, the dark fabric casting a deep shadow over her fiercely beautiful, utterly pissed-off face.
"Samuel," Heena whispered, her voice like cracked ice. "The horses are ready at the outer wall?"
"Yes, My Lady," Samuel rumbled, his dark eyes flashing with a deadly, eager light behind his wooden cat mask as he stepped forward to unlatch the heavy iron bolts. "Two of the fastest mares in the estate. We will reach the northern border before the convoy even realizes they are under siege."
"Good," Heena sneered, her fingers tightly gripping the edge of her cloak. "Let's ride. Someone out there needs to pay for my lack of a vacation."
.
.
.
Heena stood at the exit of the hidden tunnel, staring blankly at the two majestic, muscular steeds waiting for them. She slowly turned her head toward Samuel, her expression utterly blank.
