Milady Death's return

At the Arch Chancellor’s Palace.


Confidently and gracefully striding through the doors to Vehemence’s throne room, Milady Death glanced at the slave girls holding them for her. They averted their eyes and slightly bowed their heads, as prescribed by Theran etiquette. After all Milady Death wasn’t of noble blood, was she now?

She smirked. Yes, she had trained them well. Very well. She only hoped that her Lord would be just as pleased with the new group of slaves she had delivered to the Palace. She was rather proud of her slave-trading business, and even had slaves training other slaves, but those meant for the Arch Chancellor were her personal responsibility. She taught and tested them face-to-face, so as to please Vehemence best. He had yet to complain about any of them.

A few feet in front of the ruby throne she bowed deeply and stayed like that, waiting for him to speak.

“Stop it, Milady. You know the rules do not apply to you.”

She raised her head, smiling: “I know, my lord, but if I don’t set a good example, then who will?”

Vehemence chuckled. “I trust it you had a … lucrative trip?”

“Yes. I have found plenty of war victims who were ready to sell their own family members and neighbors for some hydro or ore and crystal.”

“Then what took you so long?” Milady Death shrank back a bit at the edge of steel in his voice. All too well she remembered the days, when… She shook her head, battling off the unpleasant memories.

“I beg your pardon, Arch Chancellor. These people were rather hard to train. Some of them needed some special attention and other just didn’t want to obey. So I had to,” She paused choosing a fitting euphemism, “replace them with others in a way that would serve as an example. However, I am sure that your highness will find his new slaves obedient and clever enough.”


Vehemence sighed. “No need to apologize, Milady. I was simple interested why you hadn’t reported to the palace sooner.”

Dread filled the woman before the Arch Chancellor. He wouldn’t dare think… “My Lord, I did not mean to…” She broke off, emotions overwhelming her. Almost crying she whispered: “Vehemence, I didn’t run to the enemy during the war. I would never betray you!”

The Arch Chancellor didn’t say anything but looked her in the eyes and suddenly she understood the meaning of his harsh voice.

‘Hah, I got him worried!’ Milady’s fright disappeared as snow before the sun. She cheered in her head. Her face, however, showed no sign of her inner celebration. Instead she asked quite coolly, “Would the Arch Chancellor be interested in inspecting the new arrivals?”

He impatiently waved her words away “Later, I’ll see to them later. I’m sure you’ve done a great job, as always.”

“Anything to please you,” Milady bowed once again before asking, “Was there anything else I can do to serve you?”

“That will be all, Milady Death. But I do hope you will not deprive me of your company for too long this time.”

“All you have to do is summon me and I shall be here.”

“Glad we have this understanding.” He nodded at one of the ever present scantily clad slave girls. “Make sure Milady gets her reward for the goods and whatever else she wants.” He turned his attention back to Milady Death, “You are free to go.”

“And, as always, I thank you for my freedom, Arch Chancellor.” She said before walking out of the throne-room.

Her own two slave girls were waiting for her in the adjoining hall. They handed her a pair of long gloves and her mask, which she put on immediately to cover up the scars left by own slave collar and cuffs. The scars reminded her (and others) too much of the time when she was just one of Vehemence’s slave girls. Besides, she got enough snide remarks about her being a slave-trader, she didn’t need to be reminded by everybody’s looks exactly where she came from.