Cornelius Suddaby

Dust and ash clouded her vision. She sat pressed against the wreckage of the wagon, unable to contain her trembling. Her army, her pride, her last hope—all of it now lay like a dead carpet on the battlefield. Tears streamed down her cheeks, mixing with the dirt. She had been a queen, and now she was nothing.

A shadow fell upon her. Slow, heavy steps. She recognized him—Cornelius Suddaby, whose name was synonymous with icy cruelty. He crouched, his eyes an indifferent lake, absorbing her despair. His hand, stained with the frozen blood of his enemies, dug into her hair and yanked sharply, pulling her face to his.

"Checkmate, girl..." his whisper burned her like hot iron. "Now, if you want to live, bark."

Her entire world shrank to this pain, to this choice. Death or humiliation? But as long as she lived, there was still a chance... for something. Her voice broke, against her will, quiet and broken:

"Woof... woof..."

A smile blossomed on Cornelius's face—a smile of absolute power and sadistic triumph. He tightened his grip on her hair, causing her to gasp in pain.

"Smart girl..."

These words carried a death sentence. She had bought her life at the price of her crown and dignity. And from now on, her existence depended on the whim of one for whom her suffering was the highest music.