Nora and Avice stripped naked, piling their garments in Mira’s lap and taking off their slippers.
The prisoner’s eyes bulged.
Nora laid out her kit on the floor. She and Avice knelt on each side of the man, untied his hands, and used painful joint holds to stretch his arms wide and pin him down.
Caris couldn’t help rolling her eyes; despite everything, his gaze was locked on their breasts. Men.
“Your life is already forfeit.” Caris stood at his feet, glaring down at him. “What happens next depends on you. We need to know who hired you, who gave you the poison. Tell us, and your death is a quick one. Refuse, and—”
The man shrieked against his gag, his body arcing as he writhed in pain.
Nora tossed his little finger into the privy, her knife in her bloody hand.
“Nora,” Caris scolded.
Nora looked up, her face filled with lust. Blood had splattered her neck and chest. Her eyes were glazed over; her lips parted as she licked them.
“He’s not going to tell us,” she crooned as she leaned down, letting her hardened nipple brush against his remaining fingers. “He’s going to let me cut and cut and—”
“Nora,” Caris deepened her voice into a command.
“Fine.” Nora leaned back but kept her grip. “Talk him to death.”
Caris huffed, shaking her head and turned back to the man. His eyes were filled with tears, and he was still thrashing. She lifted her voice, drawing his attention back to her. “Information,” she said firmly, “and this will end.” She nodded to Avice, who pulled out the gag.
Their prisoner spat with rage. “Death to House Wvyern, death to the bitch queen and her spawn.” He drew in a sobbing breath, then screamed again as Nora took another finger.
“No one can hear you,” Caris raised her voice. “And if they did, no one would stop us.”
He cursed again, spitting his words.
“Fine.” Caris said and nodded to Avice, who shoved the rag back in his mouth. “Break his elbows,” she said. “Then start on his feet.”
She went to stand by Mira, watching as the others worked.
“Don’t you already know who gave him the poison?” Mira asked softly, holding the mass of skirts and underclothes that came almost to her chin.
“We have suspicions,” Caris nodded. “But having it confirmed would be good. Besides,” she leaned her head down and lowered her voice so she wouldn’t be heard over the muffled screams. “Nora needs to work off her malaise. She’s been vexed lately.”
“We all have.” Mira looked glum. She picked at a bit of lace on one of the sleeves. “Iris has been gone for so long; we have never been separated like this before. I keep looking for her, thinking I need to tell her something, but I turn and she is not there.” Mira drew in a breath that was almost a sigh.
Caris gave her a questioning look.
Mira spoke slowly and carefully. “The Bonded is suffering. So far, her orders are rational, but I fear…” Mira gave her a side glance.
Understanding her caution, Caris gave her an encouraging nod.
“Our Queen is smart and clever and manipulative and vicious,” Mira let the words out in a rush. “But she always has a purpose. Lately she is just lashing out like a wounded bull. It can’t continue, Caris.” Mira seemed about to say more, but that foggy look entered her eyes and the words never came.
Thankfully, a clear scream drew both their attentions. Nora was pulling at the man’s privates, clamping down hard. Avice was waving her knife before his face, whispering something.
“Lord Calfar, Lord Calfar, his steward paid me, paid me—” the hoarse, terrified rasp was cut off when Avice stuffed the rag back in his mouth.
“Ah,” Caris said. “Good enough. Kill him. We can’t be about this all day.”
Nora and Avice just looked at her. “It’s more fun when they struggle,” Avice said. “If they’re dead, it’s just work.”
“Twenty minutes more,” Nora promised.
