Chapter 71 CLOSEST FRIENDS

Chapter 71 CLOSEST FRIENDS
The King hated blood.
Not because it frightened him. Blood had its uses. Kingdoms were built with it, wars justified by it, and crowns secured through it, but blood was filthy.
He stood in the castle courtyard watching servants scrub the marble stones beneath the execution block. Thin red streaks ran between the pale tiles where the last body had been dragged away.
“Again,” the King said calmly.
The servant nearest the block hesitated, cloth dripping pink water back into the bucket.
“But Your Majesty, the stone is already...”
“Again.”
The servant bowed quickly and returned to scrubbing, pressing the cloth harder against the marble.
Ten bodies already lay beneath white sheets along the courtyard wall.
The King lifted a linen cloth and wiped his already clean fingers.
A guard approached and knelt.
“Your Majesty, the Queen refuses to leave her tower.”
The King sighed.
“She refuses?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“Such a disappointment.”
He folded the cloth with neat, careful precision.
“Carry her here, use force if you must; she must not bleed, but you must get her here at once.”
The guard hesitated only a moment before signaling the others.
The Queen was brought into the courtyard shortly afterward.
She had clearly struggled. Her pale hair was loose, tears tracked her cheeks, but she held her head high as the guards placed her beside the King.
She refused to look at him.
The King regarded her thoughtfully.
“You have missed quite an eventful morning.”
She remained silent.
He gestured lazily toward the row of bodies.
“Ten criminals have been executed already.”
Her eyes flicked toward them before she forced herself to look away.
“There will be more,” he continued.
“You can’t keep doing this.”
“I must.”
The King settled comfortably into his chair.
“You see, the barbarian warlord marches toward my walls with an army behind him. A rather impressive one, I hear.”
Her gaze shifted slightly.
“And the creature that rides beside him,” he added thoughtfully.
“The warcat.”
The Queen’s face tightened. The King smiled.
“She has become quite the legend already. A beast tearing through towns, soldiers fleeing before her claws.”
He leaned closer to the Queen.
“But legends are not particularly useful against walls.”
His eyes gleamed with quiet certainty.
“Especially when I have you.”
She looked at him with horror.
“I will not help you slaughter innocent people.”
“Oh, you misunderstand.”
The King waved toward the guards.
“Bring the next one.”
Two soldiers dragged a small boy forward who could not have been more than twelve years old.
The guards forced him to his knees before the execution block.
The boy’s voice trembled as he tried to speak.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to steal it. My mother is sick and I...”
“Be quiet,” the King commanded.
The boy fell silent immediately.
The King turned to the Queen.
“This one stole a loaf of bread.”
The Queen stared at the child, her hands trembling.
“These aren’t hardened criminals yet. Small problems grow when ignored.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“You can save the boy.”
She didn’t answer.
The King nodded towards the executioner.
As the blade lifted, the boy began to cry.
“Stop!” the Queen shouted.
The blade froze in the air.
The King turned slowly toward her.
“There you are.”
Her voice shook despite her effort to remain calm.
“I will save the child.”
The King smiled.
“A wise judgment.”
He gestured for the executioner to step back.
The guards pulled the boy away from the block as he sobbed with relief.
The Queen lowered her head.
The King rose and paced slowly across the courtyard.
“You see,” he said thoughtfully, “this is precisely why you are necessary.”
She looked at him again.
“You are forcing me to decide who deserves to live.”
“Yes.”
He stopped beside the execution block, staring down at the faint red stain the servants still struggled to erase.
“The barbarian may bring his horde,” he said quietly.
“The warcat may tear through my outer towns.”
He turned back toward her with calm confidence.
“But my kingdom will stand.”
He gestured toward the castle walls rising above the courtyard.
“Because when the time comes, you will protect it.”
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“I will not help you kill anyone.”
“You will not need to.”
The King returned to his throne and sat beside her once more.
“With your power, no army will ever dare cross these walls.”
His smile returned, serene and utterly certain.
“The barbarian warlord will learn that soon enough.”
The guards stepped forward with another prisoner.
A young woman this time.
The Queen’s hands began to shake again.
The King watched her quietly.
“Well then,” he said softly.
“Let us see how many of your people you can save today.”
Before the executioner could raise the blade again, the heavy gates of the courtyard opened.
A group of soldiers entered, dragging three women between them.
Their wrists were bound, their dresses torn from rough handling, but they walked upright despite the guards forcing them forward. One of them struggled enough that two soldiers had to keep a firm grip on her arms.
The King looked mildly annoyed at the interruption.
“What is this?”
The captain bowed.
“My lord, these women were taken from the House of Midnight Pleasures.”
The name caused a small flicker of recognition in the King.
The women were forced to their knees before the throne. The King recognized them immediately as the woman Flora had brought to him.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Then another figure stepped forward.
Selene.
She moved through the courtyard with easy confidence, her expression amused as she looked down at the prisoners.
She gestured toward them one by one.
“Lita. Maren. Faye.”
Lita lifted her head and spat at Selene’s feet.
Selene smiled faintly and looked down at the spit as though it were nothing more than a curious inconvenience.
“These,” she continued, glancing toward the King, “are the warcat’s closest friends.”
The King’s expression changed slowly.
“Are they?”
“Oh yes,” Selene said smoothly. “Keira made that quite clear to us all.”
The King rose from his throne and walked slowly toward the kneeling women.
“Well then,” he said quietly.
“It seems you have brought me a rather interesting gift.”
He looked back toward the soldiers.
“Take them to the tower.”
The women struggled as the guards dragged them away.
“They will remain here,” the King said calmly, “under my protection.”
He glanced toward the Queen.
“Until the barbarian warlord is dead… and the warcat learns her place.”