Falko sat in the dimly lit empire captive hut, his arms bound tightly to the chair, his gaze fixated on the floor. His body ached, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his chest. In front of him stood Sarai, her expression a mix of guilt and frustration. She opened her mouth to speak, her voice trembling slightly.
"Falko, please... I didn't want it to be this way," Sarai began softly, taking a hesitant step toward him. She also didn't call him prince, since she wanted to show her sincereness instead if just using official terms. "I did this for you. For both of you. Selene and you, you deserve better than the life we had."
"You might hate me now, but you would have understood if we escaped to the free city, and had to live like street rats. You wouldn't survive that life," Sarai muttered justifying her own actions.
Falko didn't respond, his jaw clenched, eyes still focused on the ground as though her words meant nothing. Sarai's heart sank, the silence between them unbearable.
"I couldn't let us live like that anymore," she continued, her voice desperate now. "Silvaris empire offered me a way out, a way to survive. If I didn't agree... I would be dead. They would've killed me! Falko, you have to understand! Unlike Selene, I'm a mage, you know what happen to the mages that do not register with the circle of Silvaris mages."
Still, he said nothing. His breathing was heavy, his silence a punishment in itself. Sarai's face twisted with sadness as she knelt in front of him, her hands trembling as they hovered near his knees.
"Say something!" she pleaded, tears almost welling in her eyes. "I didn't want to betray Selene, I didn't! But what else could I do? You two will be fine; they won't hurt you, but me—"
Finally, Falko snapped.
"Fine?!" he spat, his voice seething with anger as he lifted his head to glare at her. "You think we'll be fine?! Do you even hear yourself? This isn't about the empire or survival. You betrayed Selene! Your own sister! The one who would've given her life for you!"
Sarai recoiled as if struck, her eyes wide with shock at the fury in his voice. She opened her mouth to respond, but Falko continued, his voice rising with every word.
"I don't care if you hand me over to the empire! I don't care what happens to me, but Selene… she trusted you! I trusted you! And you turned your back on her, for what? Power? Safety? We could have died together if you're so scared. Selene would fight for you until her breath, so do I."
"Admit it, Sarai. You are just selfish and thought about yourself, which got Selene killed,"
Tears of confusion and regret began to fall from Sarai's eyes as Falko's words hit her like a physical blow. She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. "You always preferred her... didn't you?"
Falko's gaze didn't waver, his expression hard, unrelenting. "I didn't, but now I definitely do."
Sarai bit her lip, her heart breaking at his words. She wiped her tears with trembling hands because she knew women shouldn't cry in front of men, trying to collect herself. "You don't understand, Falko," she said quietly, her voice filled with pain. "If I didn't agree with the empire... if I refused them, I'd be dead right now. Hanging from a noose in the middle of town. I couldn't risk that. I couldn't leave you both to fend for yourselves without me. You will thank me later for what I did, but it's truly regretable what happened to my sister. She was always stubborn."
"See you, Falko," she murmured, her voice small and broken. "I... I truly hope they don't harm you. I hope you can live the life you deserve."
She turned to leave, her steps slow and hesitant, and just before she exited the room, she spoke one last time, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I wish you... unharm."
And with that, she disappeared through the door, leaving Falko alone in the silence, his heart torn between anger and pity with him remembering about everything he had to go through and all the loses he had to bear including his mother, father, sister and now Selene.
***
In the dead of night, under the cover of darkness and howling of the wolves, the Commander Yesner stood just outside Falko's captive hut. The cold wind blew softly through the trees, but her presence was enough to send a chill down anyone's spine. She glanced at the two young women guarding the door, their confused expressions barely visible in the moonlight.
"Commander Yesner?" one of them spoke hesitantly, her voice betraying her uncertainty. "What brings you here so late?"
Without a word, the Commander looked around to make sure no one else was nearby. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a handful of coins. With a subtle movement, she slid them into the guards' pockets, her eyes narrowing as she gave her orders.
"No one is to come near this hut tonight. You understand?" Her voice was low but firm, sending a clear message. "And whatever happens here stays between us. Keep your mouths shut if you know what's good for you."
The guards exchanged nervous glances but quickly nodded. They had seen the Commander's cruelty before—she had led many campaigns to victory for the empire, crushing their enemies without mercy. Defying her wasn't an option.
"Yes, Commander," they both replied in unison.
Satisfied, the Commander stepped inside the hut, closing the hut behind her. The air inside was heavy, the scent of damp soil mingling with the flicker of candlelight as she removed her gloves and empire-issued coat, revealing her battle-worn body. Scars crisscrossed her skin—trophies from countless wars—and her frame was slightly muscular, yet undeniably feminine, with a lingering sensuality that seemed at odds with her reputation.
Her slightly short hair was combed properly showing, she was a woman that preferred to stay very clean and groomed, which was common for most of them, despite them fighting wars and cleaning gutters on the streets.
She lit the candles one by one, casting a soft, warm glow over the small room. Her eyes finally landed on Falko, bound tightly to a chair, his head drooping as he slept, exhausted from the day's torment.
Her lips curled into a sly smile. The Handsome Prince of the South, she thought, excitement bubbling inside her. She had heard the stories, tales of his looks and charm, of the way women across kingdoms fawned over him. And now here he was, tied and helpless, completely at her mercy.
"What a view! Enough to get my pussy wet just by looking at her," Yesner thought, as she moved closer, her breath quickening and she knelt beside him. With trembling hands, she reached out, gently stroking his soft hair, inhaling the scent as if it were some rare fragrance. "So much more handsome than they said," she murmured to herself, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, and she caressed his cheek with an almost reverent touch. Falko stirred, his eyelids fluttering as he woke, confusion filling his tired eyes. But before he could react, before he could scream, the Commander quickly clamped her hand over his mouth, a wicked grin spreading across her face.
"Shh," she whispered, her voice dangerously soft. "Don't make this difficult for me, Prince."
His muffled protests fell on deaf ears as she stuffed a piece of cloth into his mouth, silencing him. She took a step back, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of desire and control. "You wouldn't want to struggle too much," she warned, her fingers teasing the buttons of his shirt. "It'll be harder for both of us if you do."
Falko's eyes were wide with fear, his breath ragged as he felt the Commander's hands on his chest. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his skin as she licked slowly, savoring the moment. "So soft... just as I imagined."
Her hands continued to roam, undoing the buttons one by one, exposing his chest as she indulged in her twisted desires, her excitement growing with each passing second.
"And now... you're all mine," she whispered, her breath hot against his skin as her fingers traced the lines of his body. "You wouldn't refuse a frustrated woman like me, do you?"