By sword or hand

chapter 1

"Maurice Avgrove." The tanned woman with a face of steel lifted her rested hands from the arms of the broad, mauve seat and stood up, her dress mildly graced the grey stone that ran along the length of the huge hall. "Come." she said, blandly.

"The realm does not exaggerate your beauty your grace." She did not smile, her eyes remained cold and they watched the now unrecognisable man that looked up at her; held by the chainmailed men of house fëower odell-dryden. "Would you like to die by sword or by hand?" she spoke softly yet with the ice of the frost flowers that protrude in the wintertide at house nygon. "Please, have mercy on my soul, please i beg of y-" He was cut short by one of the men shoving his face down onto the concrete.

"I will ask once more, by sword or by hand?" She held her gaze on him, annoyed by the fact that he made her ask twice, he hung his head; the once shiny brown curls lay lank with grease and knots, "By sword your grace." So that is what he got, his head rolled along the grey leaving the house's reputable colour behind. One of her knights held out a pristine rag out to swipe the light splatter of the man's blood from her chiselled face and from her delicate hands. "Clean shot your grace." She still did not crack a smile, but her pink lips curved up slightly and her thick right brow lifted in amusement, "Well, lords, it turns that the Avgroves' do not s**t gold." she stated, causing the three men to laugh in disgust and amusement. "Get it out, we have a meeting at dogor with house eldenofan and they're feeble b******s with the common wit of a rabbit who might just fall ill at the sight of a dead horse."

"But sly my queen." Paying no mind, she glided outside of an oak door behind her bookshelves then set off to one of her towers. The tower by her east wing. It had seen so much, been loved so little and held the many secrets of redshore.