TAVRIC
That's my girl, I muse, a slow smirk spreading across my face.
In the back of my mind, Ryker is practically grinning from ear to ear, his metaphorical tail thumping with approval. Our mate is a queen, and she hasn't even been crowned yet.
However, I can't shake a lingering curiosity about Mina.
When Lucy had spoken about the healer's daughter, I perceived something—a flash of smugness, but it wasn't the heat of a full victory.
It was something cooler, more calculating, something I'm trying but failing to place my hands on.
Hopefully, she will trust me with whatever she's planning when we finally meet after this circus to rub minds together.
Meanwhile, the murmurs in the crowd have shifted in tone. The shock is being replaced by a wary, newfound respect for the woman they once discarded.
"Did you see her eyes? She didn't even blink when she ordered the whipping."
"A hundred strokes of silver daily? That's not a punishment; that's a slow death sentence."
