"You tried to kill me." Kira stood in the cold, drafty cell of Dravengard's dungeon, staring at the woman who had poisoned her. "Why?"
Clapped in silver chains and chained to the floor of the cell, a young lady named Lara met Kira's words with a flat stare and stubborn silence.
"Answer your Queen," Derek growled behind Kira.
Lara looked up then, her eyes igniting with a brand of hatred Kira had never seen before.
"She is not my queen," Lara spat, "and she will never be. I would rather die than bow to the daughter of the enemy who betrayed my people."
Lara was a local farmer from the lower villages who regularly supplied the palace with fresh herbs. That was how she had gained access to the servant quarters and kitchens without raising suspicion.
