Dreams Made Flesh

an execution…they wouldn't dare, considering who he's related to. But I'll insist that he be made to serve me for a year as the price for the trauma inflicted by his unbridled lust. And they'll give him to me."
    Marian stared at Roxie, stunned. Accuse Lucivar of rape? The accusation alone would require going before a tribunal of Queens to determine the man's innocence or guilt, and even if he was declared innocent, the taint of being accused could shadow him the rest of his life. It had happened to a friend of her father's. Despite being falsely accused, the Warlord had been dismissed from the court…and had ended up leaving Askavi because even his closest friends had turned away from him, afraid their own reputations would be smeared if they were seen with him.
    Even though it still chilled her to think about it, she understood why the Warlords who attacked her had planned to kill her. If she had survived the rape and accused them, at the very least, their standing in society would have been ruined. If a nobody hearth witch could ruin aristo Warlords in Terreille, what would an accusation made by an aristo witch do to a man in Kaeleer, where the laws and Protocols were upheld far more strictly?
    And if the people in Ebon Rih thought Lucivar was freed because of his family connections rather than because he was truly innocent, it would shatter his life. The Blood here would never continue to accept him as the Warlord Prince of Ebon Rih.
    "You can't," Marian said. "Even if they believed you, even if they did demand that he serve you, he's an Ebon-gray Warlord Prince.You'd never control him."
    "He'd have to wear a Ring of Obedience," Roxie replied. "I've heard those Rings can control any male."
    Roxie didn't care that this would ruin him. She just wanted to enslave him, wanted to force him back into that pain he'd endured when he'd lived in Terreille. Lucivar would never obey Roxie willingly, so she'd have to use the Ring to hurt him…and because he'd never shown any interest in her, she would enjoy hurting him.
    "You can't do that to him," Marian said as something inside her strained to break free.
    "Watch me." Roxie turned and started to walk away.
    "No!" Dropping her basket, Marian threw herself at Roxie.
    Lucivar pushed his way through the crowd, cursing under his breath. A brawl on the main street of Riada. Just what he needed today. He'd hoped to convince Marian to set aside her chores for an hour to go flying with him since it was a lovely day and she hadn't had much of a chance to enjoy her recovered skills during the winter. Although that icy free fall they'd performed one sunny afternoon had ended with an enjoyable evening keeping each other warm in bed.
    First he'd take care of this mess, then share a midday meal at The Tavern with Jaenelle as they'd planned. After that, he'd go home and see—
    He reached the front of the crowd and stared at the two women rolling around in the mud, punching, slapping, and generally trying to tear each other apart.
    "Mother Night, Marian," he said, shaking his head. What in the name of Hell was she doing?
    Moving forward, he waited for an opening, then grabbed the back of Marian's belted cape and yanked. He heard cloth rip as he lifted her enough to get his other hand under her and haul her back out of Roxie's reach.
    He felt her legs tuck up and had a moment to think she was trying to help him set her on her feet before he recognized the intent. Releasing the back of the cape, he pivoted in time to take that two-footed kick on the thigh rather than in the balls. Since he was still holding the front of the cape, when her feet dropped to the ground his fist became the
    hinge her body swung on. Straightening his arm at the last second prevented her roundhouse punch from connecting with his face hard enough to break his jaw or her hand, but it would still leave a bitch of a bruise.
    And that, he thought, was more than enough.
    One fast jerk that ripped more seams and she landed on his shoulder with a whoof that knocked the air out of her.
    "Bring that one," he growled as he marched toward The Tavern, which was the closest place that had chairs and enough space to deal with… whatever this was.
    The crowd, he noted sourly, didn't move out of his way. Seeing where he was headed, they stampeded toward The Tavern to get ringside seats.
    Great. Wonderful. At least they had sense enough to leave two tables empty.
    He dumped Marian in an empty chair. When she popped right up