The cart stopped twice as it moved, once at the inner walls of Deterikh Keep, and then again some time later. At each, my master exchanged words with the guards, telling the first the story that he gave to Inika, and the second only that he needed to dispose of the old baron’s pet on the regent’s orders. At both, the sun briefly vanished as someone leaned over the cart, then returned with a vengeance, while I struggled to remain dead without dying. The first set gave only the most cursory inspection before sending my master on his way. The second asked several questions, inquiring about his destination and how long he planned to be gone. After several minutes of stony silence to all of their inquiries, though, they finally sent him on his way.

Soon afterwards, my master cracked the reins, and the cart lurched forward, its wheels bouncing even harder off of the rough road. It occurred to me some time afterwards that we had to be leaving Baris; we were moving too fast and had been for too long. Have I noticed this before? I wondered, but I could recall only lights and pain and motion. I’m sure I must have had the same thought more than once, but each time it seemed a new revelation, a thought worthy of a few moments’ hesitation that then vanished into the haze of pain and efforts at meditation.

When the cart did finally stop, the sun had slid down the horizon and late-afternoon rays streaked across the sky. Dimly, I noticed the autumn evening chill in the air, the blood cooling on my chest and soaking my fur. I heard my master drop from his mount with a grunt and then the heavy thud of a fist against solid wood. He drew in a deep breath and yelled, “Aura!” loudly enough to make me wince and whimper softly. Then hindfalls came over, and a warm paw brushed my right cheek. “Wake up, pet. We’re here. We’ll—’

The heavy thunk of a latch and the creak of a door cut off my master’s words, followed quickly by half a sentence from a familiar voice. “—never bothered with the sign. How can I be expected to have—” The sage’s voice rose into a sharp gasp as my master lifted me from the cart. When she found her tongue again, her voice was soft and faintly trembling. “This way.”

My master cradled me to his chest as he followed the sage into her manor. He was silent until he stepped inside, as if expecting to be heard. He sagged slightly, though his grip never faltered, as the door closed and he leaned back against it. “It’s… it’s my fault, Aura. All of it is. I should’ve stopped it. I—”

“—should take your charge up to the workshop before you drop em,” Miss Aura interrupted. “I’ll have eir charts in a bit. Up the stairs, second on the right, set em in the circle and stand away.” Her voice faded as she walked away, down the cramped hallway towards the back of the manor.

The sergeant-at-arms stood, dumbfounded, for a few moments, then hastily did as the sage ordered, taking the stairs two at a time at a sprint. The scents of rain and sweet smoke filled my nostrils as we stepped over the precipice, and despite the pain I felt myself relax against my master’s chest. He knelt, then carefully lay me on the floor. His pads brushed my cheek lightly. “Easy, pet,” he murmured. “You’re in good paws.” I opened my eyes and gazed up into my master’s, and despite the tears staining his fur, he smiled back. “Just a bit longer.”

Miss Aura entered the room with a scroll in one paw and a bag in the other. “You, what’s your name?”

My master looked up, then rose and adjusted his shirt. “Valentin, son of Dorik, sergeant-at-arms of Barony Deterikh.”

The sage dropped her bag and walked to her work table, then unfurled the papers and started making adjustments. “Tell me everything, sergeant,” she said without inflection. “Spare no detail.”

“It’s….” My master’s ears flattened. “Listen, Aura, there’s a lot and I don’t know how much time we have. I did my best to plant a false trail, but Datsia’s—”

The raccoon raised one paw, the tip of her tail flicking in irritation. “You’re in my home; that means you’re in my protection. If Datsia wants you, all the more reason. Now tell me how this slave got hurt, so I can take care of it.”

The sergeant-at-arms swallowed at that, then looked back down at me. I did my best to smile up to him around my pain, but he turned away, his head low. “The cuts are my doing. The muzzle and bludgeoning were mostly Erik’s.”

Miss Aura did turn at that, her yellow eyes narrowed and her muzzle set in a thin line. “It sounds like quite the evening,” she quipped. “Shared em around, did you?”

“No, I—” my master stammered quickly. “That is, we did, but that’s not how that….” He trailed off, then sighed and drew in a deep breath. “Erik finally broke, and he lashed out at Taneh. When he realized what he’d done….” He paused and shook his head. “I think he tried to run from it. He made it to the border before we could catch him. He’s on his way to Krolik under heavy guard to stand trial.” One paw waved my direction. “Datsia ordered em killed, but I… couldn’t.” He looked up at her and chuffed a weak laugh. “Ey almost died anyway.”

The more my master spoke, the further the sage’s eyes widened. “Great Family,” she muttered when he’d finished. Then she nodded sharply. “I’ll have more to ask, but that can be over tea. Head downstairs in the parlor, I’ll be along with Erik’s pet in a bit.” Once Valentin was out of the room, the sage took up her staff in one paw and a bag in the other. “No time for salves, Taneh,” she murmured as she walked the circle around me, pouring a careful line of salt beside her. “Keep breathing, and this will all be over soon.”

I nodded, then closed my eyes and turned to face the ceiling. As long as I lay perfectly still, I could almost forget how badly I hurt, but every time I moved, fire crawled beneath my skin.

The sage took up her chanting as she worked, tracing lines with the salts. “Chalk to mark and guide, salts to separate. All things are connected in the Great Work, but within the circle, we may tease free a single strand to repair it.” This time, when the circle closed, she knelt beside me within the ring of salt. “Feel the heat rising within, spreading out from your spine to engulf you. Do you remember your training?” I opened my muzzle to respond, but all that escaped was a brief nod and a moan of fresh pain from the sudden shock of genuine heat suffusing my body. “Good. Focus on the witchlight in your mind, little light.”

“I am ready,” I whimpered, panting in response to the sudden shock of pain. Every point that had been hurt before seemed to glow, radiant and aching. The slashing wounds from my master’s speartip, the cracked bone in my cheek, even the gash and burn on the side of my paw where the base of my thumb used to be flared to life in agonizing memory. I saw in my mind an angry red glow beneath my fur, highlighting the places that I hurt.

The sage was silent a moment, then said hastily, “Very good. You’re well-trained, and you do as you’re told. The body seeks balance and restoration as water seeks the lowest point in the riverbed. Where there is heat, there is imbalance, flesh out of order. I bring water to fire to soothe and quench, flesh returning to health.” Where her fingers brushed against my chest, a soothing, liquid chill seeped beneath my fur, washing away the pain. She cupped my cheek, then caressed my paw, and finally drew her fingers between my legs. Everywhere she touched, the fires fled, leaving only cool comfort behind.

“Within the circle, we separate one skein, one single strand of the Great Work, to make changes to it,” Miss Aura said softly. “To weave those changes back within the larger pattern, we carefully part the circle.” She rose onto her knees, then leaned over and cut a line in the circle of salt with her paw. “Salts divided, chalk split.” Her tail tickled my muzzle. “Wake up, Taneh.”

I blinked, then drew in a deep breath. I cringed as I inhaled, but no pain lingered in my chest. I felt nothing in particular, but after so much repressed agony, nothing was a blessed relief. “Ma’am,” I murmured. Experimentally, I brought my paws to my eyes and sighed; the ritual had done nothing to heal them. Apparently, the Great Work was convinced that wasn’t an injury, nor were the emptiness between my legs and the urge to feel it filled.

“Stop admiring yourself, pet, and get up,” Miss Aura said from the doorway. “Valentin’s got a great many more questions to answer, and I’ve got to get a kettle on.”

I inhaled sharply, then sagged. “I think so, sir.” I sank to my knees against the patchy grass, then bowed my head and closed my eyes. Picture the lights, dancing in your mind, I told myself, focusing on the rise and fall of my chest. The leaden warmth and fuzziness spread slowly, but each time I tried to count the lights dancing around me, I felt myself sinking a bit further. The pain and aches subsided, and my heart stilled. My breathing slowed, and my arms fell to my sides. Twelve lights, thirteen, fourteen…. I nodded, my eyes still closed, and I mumbled, “I am ready.”

My master’s voice seemed to come from far above me, soft and distant. “Wow.” Silence lingered for some time, and then he whispered intensely. “Listen, pet, I need you to play dead. Don’t move, don’t talk, don’t even breathe if you can. Just lie there, limp and cold.” I heard the rustle of grasses as I slumped, then felt the touch of my master’s paw against my shoulder. Something hot and slick slid wetly across my chest, and in its wake pain oozed slowly through my fur. It stung fiercely, but I kept my focus on the lights, on keeping my breathing steady, and despite the burning I remained still.

My master hissed through clenched teeth, and a second burn joined the first. A third followed quickly afterwards, and then my master pulled me to a sitting position and hefted me in his arms. He staggered slightly under the weight, then stumbled his way out from behind the building. His hinds fell in heavy steps as he carried me across the courtyard, and then suddenly we were out of the sun again and back in the shade. The scent of dried grasses gave way to the pungent sweat of horses, and the sound of others working nearby. My master tensed, then called out sharply, “Inika!”

The other set of steps stopped, and a young female voice answered, “Valentin!” Inika’s hinds rustled in fast steps, and then stopped sharply. “Thank the Family you’re—Oh, comets, what happened?”

“I’m taking a corpse to Iladin for study,” my master responded, hefting me in his arms. “He expressed interest in Aura’s work.”

“Corpse?” The soldier’s voice rose sharply. “What… but that’s Erik’s slave!”

My master shrugged. “Regent’s orders, and he was mine as soon as Erik disappeared. Hitch me a cart.”

Inika didn’t budge. “Valentin, what’s going on? First you tell us to get Erik back at all costs, then you kill his slave and he’s not even dead yet? What kind of—”

“I gave you an order, soldier,” the lynx interrupted sharply. “Erik’s gone; Datsia’s the regent now. Respect the office, not the holder.” My master’s arms tensed sharply under me as he spoke.

Both parties were silent for a few seconds, before Inika said quietly, “I spoke out of turn, sir.” She turned sharply and stepped away, back into the depths of the stables. Soon I heard the rustling of leather and hay, along with the clanking of straps. “Still, I don’t like it,” she said as she worked. Buckles clanked and straps whispered. “This isn’t like you, Valentin. Something’s wrong. This isn’t just about Erik. Dion took a fresh mount towards the front not half an hour ago. Datsia’s already sending runners to call up more troops.”

The sergeant-at-arms shrugged again. “War is coming, Inika. The regent’s just trying to protect Deterikh.”

“Regent,” Inika scoffed. “Listen to yourself. It’s Datsia. You were never this formal. And maybe we wouldn’t be at war if she hadn’t insisted on that blowhard Dion as a diplomat. He’s got a quicksilver tongue, that one, but I always have to check my purse when he leaves.” The hooves clattered against the ground, and hay rustled behind. “I’m surprised he didn’t pocket the Jazinskis’ good silver.”

Despite the tension in his frame, my master laughed at that. “Dion’s a slippery one.” He walked forward a few steps, then stopped. “Listen, Inika… you’re right. Something is happening, but I… I can’t tell you what it is. I just need you and Chelin to be ready for anything. Speaking of which, where is he?”

“Sleeping off last night’s run and the ride afterwards,” Inika responded. Her hinds approached, and then something warm and soft brushed my shoulder. “Valentin, what’s wrong?”

My master stiffened, then gently hefted me forward into a small pile of hay. As I landed, pain ripped along the wet patches in my fur, as well as all the places that had only just begun to heal, and it took all my focus to the lights inside not to cry out. “More than I can say,” was his only response.

Both held still for a moment, until Inika asked, “What do you think will happen to Erik?”

“I don’t know,” the sergeant-at-arms replied. “I just know that the Jazinskis are just off our border and Erik’s the only reason their troops aren’t on their way to Baris. He bought us some time. I’m hoping Iladin will help us make the most of it. Beyond that, I can’t let myself think about it.” He stepped back and walked a few paces away, then grunted and swung himself up onto his mount.

Clawtips delicately brushed the edge of one of my ears, and my breath caught in my throat. The ear twitched, against my will, and the fingers jerked backwards. Then they scraped against the other, and it responded as well. The air inside me burned as I tried to stay still, but then the paw withdrew. “Poor thing,” Inika said, her voice suddenly too loud and too sharp. “He didn’t deserve this.”

“Ey. It’s… it was ‘ey,’” my master corrected dully. “Not that it matters now.”

“No, no, he’s… ey’s dead,” Inika agreed quickly. “It’s just a shame, that’s all. I hope Erik survives.” She stepped back from the cart. “I know he was your friend.”

It took my master a few seconds to respond to that, and when he did, his voice quavered faintly. “He still will be, I hope. I have to go; I need to drop off a body and see if Iladin has any ideas on how to stop a war.” Then the reins cracked, and the cart began to move.

At first, I had been too stunned to struggle, to scared to run. It was the rattle of my chains, as the sergeant-at-arms reached for them, that had shaken me enough to try to bolt. I made a dash for the door, but Miss Datsia stood in the way, staring down her muzzle at me. She held her arms across her chest, bemusedly watching as I charged at her. She didn’t look angry, or even smug. Her ears stood erect above her and a faint smile sat on her muzzle, and as I stumbled backwards after barreling into her, she only chuckled. “I’ll leave you to clean this, then,” she said to the lynx before giving a salute, which my master’s betrayer returned before grabbing the lead to my collar.

A few of the kitchen help turned to watch as Mister Valentin dragged me past the fires, back to the slaves’ entrance, and then out into the mid-day sun. Between the rear of Deterikh Keep and the wall enclosing it, squash and late-planted peas grew in haphazard rows, along with patches of kale. A weatherbeaten wooden shed leaned against the stone wall, its door ajar to reveal a small cluster of tools. It reminded me, with a shock, of the garden Anya and Nadzia kept under the kitchen window, lovingly tended with Father’s tools and carefully weeded by paw, each week after services. Once, near the end of summer harvest, Justik and I dug up the gourds and took turns throwing them, to see who could reach the furthest or make the biggest mess. By the time we were done, most of their crop was ruined, and the pair were beside themselves with anger. Father, though, didn’t yell; he only sat us down, paced before us, and told us how disappointed he was. I could still hear his voice in his mind, thinking back to that moment. You think you’ve ruined a few crops, but what you’ve really destroyed is all your sisters’ hard work. Look outside, at the mess you’ve made, then look me in the eye and tell me it was worth it. Neither of us could meet his gaze, or each other’s.

A sudden tug on my leash jerked me in front of the lynx and back to the present. Mister Valentin followed up with a shove against the middle of my back, which sent me stumbling into the patch of vegetables. I dropped to all fours among the crops and pressed my paws into the ground. The soil was slightly damp, and it clung in small patches to the fur of my palms. Someone had spent time with this plot, watering the soil and plucking the weeds. I wanted to be afraid. I wanted to beg for my life. I lifted a small ball of dirt to my muzzle and took a deep breath, filling my nostrils with the heavy scent of earth.

“Listen, Ta—Stannis,” Deterikh’s sergeant-at-arms called out from behind me; his tone was completely at odds with his acts, hesitant, uncertain. “I… I’m sorry, for all of what happened to you. You didn’t deserve it.”

I lowered my paws and let the clumps of dirt fall from the stumps of my fingers. A few stubborn grains hung in the fur. “No, I didn’t, sir.” I agreed quietly, not turning around. “It doesn’t matter, though. I’m just a slave.”

“Oh, Koshki,” Mister Valentin swore. “You aren’t just…. that is, you are, but….” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his muzzle. “Listen, Taneh, it’s… complicated. There’s a lot more going on than—”

“Sir,” I interrupted, not lifting my head, “do you remember when I said, not too long ago, that if you were going to pretend I was your equal that you should just do it?” I paused for a moment, but the lynx said nothing. “I know that you didn’t trust my… trust Mister Erik with the throne. I know that he trusted you with his life, and that he wanted you to have me if anything happened to him.”

The sergeant-at-arms returned the smile, but then groaned and put one paw over his eyes, the other’s grip on his spear tightening. “Listen, I just need you to understand that I… I tried to find some other way. That I wish I could have done something to stop it.”

I blinked. “Sir, why are you justifying yourself to me? I’m a slave. The one who bought me first said that I could be killed and that nobody would….” I paused, watching the way the lynx’s ears flattened and his shoulders slumped when I said that. “And that nobody would care. Compared with that, the last half-year has been a dream,” I finished.

The lynx looked even more discomfited. “Yeah, about that. Listen, T… Stannis, I… I’m sorry. I don’t want to do this. You know that, don’t you?”

I shrugged. “Then don’t do it, sir.”

Mister Valentin laughed darkly. “Oh, comets. If only it were that easy.”

I smiled. “It is that easy, sir. I’m a slave; I follow orders because I have no choice. You’re not a slave.”

“That’s not true,” the lynx countered. “You chose to become a slave.”

I nodded. “Yes, and I choose not to run because I made the choice to be what I am, which includes not having the freedom to make other choices. Choices you can make.”

Mister Valentin sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I chose to help Datsia get rid of Erik. You’re the only one left who knows, and she doesn’t trust you not to tell. Given that, my options are to risk letting everything I’ve done collapse in my wake, or….” He fidgeted with his spear in both paws.

I ignored the weapon and focused on the lynx’s muzzle. “Why did you help Miss Datsia?”

That made the lynx chuckle. “You saw Erik’s temper. You heard his aunt. He’d give in and give in and then snap suddenly and we’d end up in a—” He stopped himself suddenly.

I smiled a bit wider. “In a war.”

“Yeah,” Mister Valentin agreed. “Listen, I think I can talk Datsia down from this, once she’s not in the moment.”

I nodded. “Of course. I’m sure the Regent will give up this chance to retake the holdings she thinks her brother gave away too cheaply, given how she’s handled everything else to this point.”

The lynx was silent for several moments more. “I definitely liked you more when you were just a distraction.”

At that, I chuckled softly. “So did I, sir.”

Mister Valentin hung his head. “Listen, I think you’re right. I thought getting Erik off the throne was the right thing to do, but it’s put somebody even worse in his place. What can I do, though? This is the path I’ve already chosen. Can’t you understand that?” He practically snarled the last at me.

I nodded, once. My heart pounded in my chest and my muzzle was sticky and dry, but my mind was painfully clear. Was it worth it?. “I do understand, sir, which is why you should hurry up and dispose of me, before Miss Datsia starts to doubt your loyalty.”

The lynx visibly tensed, shrinking in on himself. “Yes,” he said quietly. “Yes, I should.” He was silent for several moments, then advanced slowly and raised his arms. I tensed and closed my eyes, trying keep my heart calm. I knew this could happen. I knew it probably would. My master’s eyes came back to me, his relaxed and open smile as he stood on the roof overlooking Baris. Seeing his muzzle in my mind, an almost liquid warmth suffused me, spreading up from between my thighs and through my entire body. Yes, yes it was.

The tip of Mister Valentin’s spear whistled as it dropped, and then I heard a wet crunch that shook a cry out of me, but several seconds passed before I realized there was no pain. I opened my eyes and looked down, but my chest was whole and intact. Beside me, one of the squash sat in pieces, smashed by the force of the lynx’s impact. I blinked, then lifted my head, but then suddenly his paws were at the back of my head, his muzzle pressed hotly to mine. His fingers encircled the bases of my ears, and then suddenly bright flares of pain erupted from them as his claws sunk into the tender skin. He forced his tongue into my muzzle, then sucked mine back into his and bit it fiercely, making me gasp against his lips.

As the lynx forced me backwards against the ground, he took one of his paws from my ear and fumbled at his waist, then started to roughly shove his pants and breeches down to free his sheath. As soon as they were at his knees, he shoved me down, then loomed over me and began squirming between my legs, forcing them apart. It felt awkward and wrong and embarrassing, the way the emptiness between my legs throbbed as he ground himself against my nethers. My cheeks burned, but it was nothing compared to the fire rising from within.

Mister Valentin wasn’t gentle. As soon as he was close to positioned, he rose onto his knees and rammed himself forward, hilting himself inside of me in a single thrust. I screamed as his cock slammed into the back of my sex, dropping back to a whimper as he withdrew. Reflexively, I wrapped my arms around him despite myself, then tensed as he drove himself back into me. He snarled as he took me, his claws sunk into my sides, ruining open Master Iladin’s efforts in one and gouging the other. The lynx hissed, then sunk his teeth into my shoulder, sending a wave of hot agony to match the fire that rose from my sex as he claimed me.

I hurt and my cheeks burned, but my body responded despite itself, hips rising to meet the lynx’s with every thrust. The pleasure began to swell deep within me, flashes that ran from the base of my tail up my spine. Each time Mister Valentin took me, a guttural hiss escaped his throat and his jaws clenched down on my shoulder, and I pressed myself more tightly to him. Soon he was gasping, grunting against me as he took me, and I cried out each time he buried himself into my sex. The shocks came faster and faster, and then suddenly stars swarmed behind my eyes and my whole body clenched. The lynx answered with a yowl and a sharp snap of his hips, sinking himself within me, followed by a few short twitches and a fresh flow of heat deep within.

For several seconds, he simply held himself within me, muzzle pressed to my shoulder. He gingerly withdrew his teeth from my skin, then tenderly licked the bite, making me whimper. The lynx slowly pulled himself away, then rose to his hinds. “How do you feel, Stannis?”

The sound of my old name, my birth name, made me grimace. I hurt, both inside and out. My heart sat heavy in my chest, the sense of having cheated death only just sinking in. The bases of my ears burned, as did my shoulder and sides. I felt blood seeping into my fur at points, along with other fluids. I looked down at myself, then back up to the sergeant-at-arms. “Used, master.”

Mister Valentin smiled faintly at that, his ears flat against his head once more. “That’s about as disposed of as I can make you, pet.” He reached down and took one of my paws in his, then pulled me to my hinds. “If we’re lucky, we have an hour before Datsia sends someone around the taverns to find out what I did with your body. I intend to be long gone by then.”

The vole nodded in response, matching the wolfess’ grin with his own. “The team Valentin sent to retrieve him just returned with the news; he and Inika retrieved the Baron’s horse from the Jazinsk border, along with a spear that Chelin identified as his. They found no sign of young Erik, but forward spotters said they saw a wagon, heavily escorted, headed towards Krolik. Short of word from Baron Jazinsk himself, I would say that we have as much proof as we need, Regent.”

Miss Datsia smiled. “Good, that will make his tale all the stronger.” She sighed and walked to the table, then leaned against it with both paws. “The barony is safe, for the moment, but we still have much to do.”

Mister Valentin nodded in response. “Agreed. I’ll go tell the guard to stand down.” He crossed his arms and turned to the vole. “Chelin won’t be in any state to ride. Dion, go get ready. I know you’ve just returned, but we need to get the Regent’s offer of peace to the Jazinskis before—”

“Cancel that,” The elder wolfess interrupted. “Dion, head to the border and begin the advance as we discussed.” She reached over to one of the many sheafs of paper, then pulled one free and tapped on it with a clawtip. “Keep your pace slow; you won’t be leading veterans this time. I don’t care if you take a week to get to Krolik. Just keep your casualties down until you’re at the city gates. You’re going to need as many spears as you can get inside the walls to deal with their—”

The lynx turned to Miss Datsia with an incredulous stare. “What? You said once Erik was gone that you’d negotiate peace with Jazinsk!”

Deterikh’s captain turned to Mister Valentin, her expression level. “Your point being?”

The sergeant-at-arms narrowed his eyes. “I said I would help you get the throne out from under Erik’s temper. I didn’t say I would help you use it to start a war.”

Miss Datsia’s tone didn’t change, faintly amused and patronizing. “Valentin, you’re a good soldier, but you just don’t have the guile necessary to make a good leader. The Jazinskis declared war on us. They’re hungry from a year of poor crops, so their troops will be weak. They’ve taken Erik into custody, so we have a martyr for the cause. If there’s a better time to expand our borders, I can’t imagine it.”

“So.” Mister Valentin scowled and crossed his arms. “Are you saying all of this… this was just to grab a piece of Jazinsk?”

Miss Datsia’s ears flattened and her tail bristled. “Of course not!” she snapped. “My goal was, and will always be, to ensure the well-being and future of the barony. Every ruler takes that oath. I saw a chance to solve two of her biggest problems at once, and with your help, we solved them.”

The lynx paused for a few seconds, then asked too lightly, “What problems do you mean?”

“Oh, come now, Valentin,” Mister Dion interjected. “Don’t play at being the innocent; that wide-eyed look of confusion doesn’t become you.”

The wolfess favored Mister Valentin with a patronizing smile. “The Jazinskis have been a thorn in Deterikh’s side for over a generation. The southern Ezustia Range is ours by right—”

“Oh, Great Family,” Mister Valentine groaned, putting a paw over his muzzle. “We lost those mines twenty years ago!”

“We gave them away twenty years ago!” Miss Datsia snarled in response, passion showing in her voice since she first heard my master had been captured. “My brother’s second-worst mistake on the throne.”

Mister Valentin’s ears flattened against his head. “Oh, and what was his first, falling in love?”

Miss Datsia turned sharply away from the table. “Valentin!” As soon as she snapped, she drew in a deep breath and visibly composed herself, then held out her paws placatingly. “Please. Do you think me that heartless? Melka and I were never close, but I don’t resent Wilik for loving her. No, it’s what he did afterwards that was unconscionable.”

The lynx was unimpressed. “You mean giving her a son.”

“I mean taking an unimaginable risk with the barony, staking her future on that….” She glanced down at the fist she’d raised in front of her and lowered her arm back to her side. “That unstable whelp.”

“That ‘unstable whelp’ was my friend,” Mister Valentin retorted.

“Oh, of course he was!” Mister Dion laughed. “That was why you stabbed him in the back.”

The sergeant-at-arms rounded on his accuser, one finger pointing accusingly. His fist shook. “Don’t push me, Dion.”

Mister Dion leaned back against the wall, unphased. “Or else… what, precisely?”

“Just…” Mister Valentin stood still for a moment, then turned away, dropping his arms as he slumped. “Don’t.”

“Oh, poor Valentin,” The vole cooed around a smug smile. “Having an attack of conscience? Life is so much easier without one. Still, isn’t it a bit late to grow one? You did volunteer to help with this.”

Mister Valentin tensed but his voice remained weary. “I haven’t forgotten what I agreed to do. I also haven’t forgotten why.”

Miss Datsia stepped towards the lynx and put her paw on his shoulder. “Valentin, you’ve said it yourself. He didn’t have the mettle he needed to be baron.”

Mister Valentin didn’t raise his head or his voice. “You mean he wasn’t ready to go to war with the Jazinskis.”

“I mean he would’ve given into every demand made of him, then lashed out blindly with twelve times the strength he needed.” Miss Datsia’s tone was gentle but firm. She waved her free paw in my direction. “You saw what he did with just his fists. Imagine if he’d had an army at his disposal.”

The lynx turned to look at Miss Datsia, then followed her arm. His eyes met mine, and for the first time since he entered the room, he seemed to see me. “Listen, Datsia… maybe he’d have been fine if he’d actually been allowed to be the baron. I don’t think you ever gave him that chance.”

Miss Datsia shook her head in response. “No, I never did. It wouldn’t have been worth the risk to the barony.”

“And fighting the Jazinskis’ war is?” Mister Valentin asked in response. His eyes remained on mine, weary at the corners but still faintly smiling.

The wolfess’ ears flattened against her head. “Yes, I think it is.” She looked at me, and she smiled again, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “About that slave, though. Dion, as much as your suggestion appalled me, I must admit it worked beautifully. My congratulations to you for that. You have your orders.”

The vole snapped to attention and nodded sharply. “Regent.” Then he turned and walked out of the parlor.

Miss Datsia waited until the door had closed behind her envoy, then turned to face her sergeant-at-arms. “Valentin, Erik was your friend, and I understand that, but your loyalty must be to the office, not the holder of that office. You understand that, correct?”

The lynx’s expression hardened. “I do, yes.”

“Good.” Miss Datsia chuckled mirthlessly and walked over to the door. “You did what was necessary, and you played your part well. Now I need you to help me fill in the last few holes. We need to dispose of that slave.”

My blood ran cold at Miss Datsia’s words, and Mister Valentin’s eyes went wide. “But… Taneh had nothing to do with this!”

The wolfess gave an exaggerated sigh. “I’m aware of that, but again, it’s too much a risk. What if someone compels it to talk? I don’t like it either, but it’s the only way.”

The sergeant-at-arms’ paws went out, pads up, pleading. “Listen, Datsia, it doesn’t have to be like this. I’ll take em to Aura’s, have eir memory wiped. Ey doesn’t—”

“That’s not good enough!” Barony Deterikh’s regent barked. She sighed again, forcing her ears upright. “It’s still too risky, Valentin. Everything we’ve done will be for nothing if word gets out of what happened. The only way to ensure success is to silence anyone who would speak out. We can’t have it running around the keep, and we can’t sell it. That only leaves one option. Can I count on you to finish this… Captain?”

Mister Valentin’s eyes closed, and my blood froze solid when next he spoke. “Yes… Baroness.”

It took some effort—and a fair bit of pain—to get my legs over the side of the bed, but soon I had my hinds on the floor and my paws on the edge of the mattress. Everything spasmed as I pushed myself upright, but I managed to put my weight on my legs without them collapsing. The first steps were difficult; it felt as if things inside me were moving that had no business being able to do so. I wrapped my arms around my waist, though, and I focused on making one step, then another, slowly turning a circle about the room. I felt myself favoring my left leg, which was little surprise; that side had taken the brunt of my master’s kicks.

Once I knew I could walk without toppling, I gathered my chains as best as I could to keep them from swinging and limped carefully to the door. Mister Valentin had left it open, and the witchlights in the parlor remained uncovered. Unfurled scrolls and other sheets of papers lay strewn about the main table, with half-empty teacups around its edges. Plates sat stacked on a wooden plank at one end, still covered in scraps. At the other, the baron’s teapot held a few last cold dregs. One of the chairs sat on its side, another on its back. From the state of the room, the formal council had gone about as poorly as my master’s mood had.

It hurt to bend, to move even the relatively light chairs, but the need to feel useful even in my master’s absence moved me to straighten the room. What made it difficult, though, was the paintings that hung on the walls. From their vantage point on high, six generations of barons past stared down upon me as I did my best to tidy the parlor, righting furniture and gathering cups. I couldn’t bring myself to meet their gaze as I worked, and the longer I walked around, the more uncomfortable I became. My master’s father, Wilik, stood in the last frame. Unlike the portrait in the bedroom, he stood alone in this picture, dressed in full regalia. Painted in his prime, his fur held only a few patches of white, and he stood as straight as the spear at his side. His eyes were the same gold as his son’s, large and bright, with hints of weariness at the corners, as of a soldier who had seen one battle too many. The line of his muzzle was flat, his ears erect; it was hard not to read his expression as a scowl, disapproving and disappointed.

I flinched as I met the portrait’s stare, then lowered my eyes again. “I’m sorry, sir,” I said aloud, addressing my master’s father. “I never knew you, or what you thought of your son, but I can only hope that he’s made you proud.” I swallowed heavily, feeling at once like a fool and a fraud. I hadn’t prayed since my father died, and I didn’t even know if I had permission to speak, but I felt the need to help, somehow. “I don’t know if the Great Family listens to you, sir, but my master… your son… is in a great deal of trouble. He’s probably scared, and lost, and….” I drew in a deep breath and let it out. “I know I’m just a slave, and I have no right to ask, but if you could ask Oshka to protect him until he’s home, sir, it would mean a lot to me.”

“One good thing about the dead,” Mister Dion intoned behind me, “is that they have very little to say.” I spun, ears flattening against my head, to see the vole, dressed in a loose cotton shirt and trousers, leaning against the doorframe. A mace hung from a heavy leather belt around his waist, with a scabbard tucked against the other hip. Bandages encircled his lower left leg. “It makes them better company than brash young slaves who speak altogether too much.”

I blushed, my chest tight. All of my resolve to stand up to the unctuous envoy melted in the hot embarrassment of being called on my misbehavior. “Yes, sir.” My paws shook and I felt a knot in the pit of my stomach.

The envoy smiled and limped into the room. “Much, much better. Have you seen Valentin about? I have news for him.”

My heart skipped a beat. Could my prayers have been answered? “Has my master returned?”

The vole’s ears rose and his eyes shone. “Well, his horse has, at least.” At that, the pit in my stomach yawned wide and my blood ran cold, but Mister Dion continued, heedless of my expression. “Most regrettably, it seems as though the Jazinski have accepted his quite generous offer to exchange himself for a temporary truce.” He doffed his cap and held it to his chest. “A young martyr for his country. His sacrifice will be remembered.”

My jaw rose and fell for several moments, but no sound escaped me. An invisible paw held my chest in a death-grip. I finally managed to whisper, “Is he…?” I couldn’t bring myself to finish.

“Oh, no, no,” the vole replied, still smiling. “They won’t just kill him. They’ll want a full trial, to make an example of him as a warning to others.” He snickered. “What better way to deter others who would spoil their harvests and corrupt their citizens?”

My eyes went wide; the envoy’s words were a jumble in my ears. “Spoil their… but he had—” I stopped and blinked. “Corrupt, sir?”

Mister Dion let out a chuckle. “Oh, my, my, such delicious innocence.” He motioned towards me with his paw. “Just imagine what Baron Jazinsk had to say when he learned of what our teenaged tyrant had done to a Jazinski slave, to say nothing of what he then did with em. And in the middle of court, no less. Scandalous.” His paw went to his muzzle in mock embarrassment.

The implications of the envoy’s statements hit me like a blow to the chest, and my knees went weak. I dropped heavily into one of the chairs I’d just righted. “You… lied to them. None of that is true.”

“None of it?” The vole clucked his tongue as he limped over to the table. “I’d say a fair bit of it is. More than enough to make the rest seem plausible.” He leered as he approached, one paw at the hilt of his short sword. “You were quite lovely at the end of his leash.”

My stomach twisted; his stare felt greasy. My voice rose in a plaintive wail. “But you brought me here! You were the—”

“—the one who took you to Aura’s, on the baron’s orders,” Mister Dion interrupted, his voice oozing smug amusement. “Yes, I was.” He took hold of my chains in his free paw. I tried to shove him away, but without fingers I could only push on his wrists, which made him laugh. “I really must compliment you, Stannis. You’ve played your part in this beautifully, even if you didn’t know it.”

At the mention of the name, the world went grey at the edges of my vision and a chill settled into my paws and hinds. It was as if the sun had risen in my mind, burning away the fog that had settled over my memory. I sank back against the back of the chair and lifted my mutilated paws before my eyes to stare at them. “You… did this to me. All of it.” I looked up at Mister Dion, voice hollow. “Why?”

The vole shrugged. “Would the truth please you? Because I wanted to do it. Because I enjoyed it. Because I could. Do you need more reason than that? You’ll have to ask the others.”

“The others?” I dropped my paws back to my lap, then flinched as they neared my waist. I didn’t want to think about what else had been done to me.

Mister Dion nodded, his grin spreading. “When they arrive, I’ll let them—oh, good, good, they’re here.” Miss Datsia stepped through the doorway, dressed in a tan jacket and dark green skirt, similarly armed to the envoy. Mister Valentin followed close behind her, in a button-down shirt and cotton pants, carrying a spear loosely in his paws. I tried to catch his gaze, but his face was a glass-eyed mask. The longer I stared at him, the deeper my heart sank into the pit of my stomach.

The sergeant-at-arms turned to Mister Dion with a yawn, having given no sign of even seeing me in the room. “You said you had news?”

“Oh, yes, yes.” Dion nodded to the lynx, then turned to Miss Datsia. “Your nephew is in Jazinski custody. As of roughly six hours ago, you are Regent of Barony Deterikh.”

Throughout the night, Mister Valentin remained beside my master’s bed. At times he paced, or he dozed fitfully on my mattress. Most of the times I woke, though, he was where I saw him last, sitting in one of the chairs dragged in from the parlor, his elbows on his knees, his muzzle resting on the backs of his fingers, his eyes half-closed. If ever he caught my eyes, he smiled or offered some reassurance, but then he withdrew back into his thoughts. At one point, as I fell back to sleep, I felt a brush of fingers against my forehead, but then the sensation was gone as I sank into the darkness again.

The sun had risen fully and shone through the high and narrow windows by the time sleep finally left me. My bones ached and I felt weak, but the worst of the throbbing pains had passed. As I struggled to rise, Mister Valentin’s paw was at my shoulder again. “Easy, pet. Listen, I don’t think you should be up until Iladin’s had another look at you. How do you feel?”

I put a paw on my stomach with a grimace. “I’m sorry, sir. I’d like to try to stand.” My words were slurred, my tongue swollen in my muzzle, but I spoke slowly and carefully, trying to make myself clear. “My back is sore from lying still.”

“As sore as the rest of you?” Mister Valentin smiled faintly, then shook his head. “You can sit up, but only for a bit. Are you hungry?” I nodded, and the lynx offered me a mug of lukewarm broth. “Drink slowly, pet.” I took it between my paws and sipped from it carefully, while the sergeant-at-arms sat on the edge of the bed. “Listen, Taneh….” He hung his head and sighed. “I’m sorry about what happened. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that. Don’t.”

For several moments, I balanced the mug in my lap and my words on my tongue. “Sir….” I took a deep breath and bowed my head. “What I deserve doesn’t matter. What my owner wishes, does. He wished to beat me.” I closed my eyes, but my master’s face came back to me, and I shuddered and forced myself to gaze into the murky broth instead. “I don’t know why. It doesn’t matter why.” It wasn’t true, but it wasn’t my place to ask, and likely no-one here could—or would—tell me.

“But it does, Taneh. Listen.” Mister Valentin shifted closer and put a paw on my shoulder, his eyes wide and full of false earnestness. “Erik… the baron… wasn’t well. He hadn’t been for some time. That wasn’t the first time he’s lost his temper. He’s hurt people—”

I lifted my head and narrowed my eyes, cutting off the sergeant-at-arms with a glare. “Sir, with respect, I may be a slave, but I’m neither a dolt nor a kit. You don’t have to tell me anything. You don’t have to even talk to me; just give me orders and I will follow them. If you do wish to treat me like you would a person, though, then please do so.”

The lynx sat, muzzle agape, for several seconds, then broke out in a weary chuckle. “I probably ought to beat you for that, but you’re already injured and I’m too tired to care.”

“Do as you wish to do, sir. ” I replied wearily. “Use me, beat me, ignore me. Just, please, if you want to pretend that I’m your equal, at least do so.”

Mister Valentin’s ears flattened against his head. “You want me to treat you like an equal, then? Then I’ll tell you everything. Erik was an alchemical half-breed, he probably shouldn’t have been trusted with the throne in the first place, and he was becoming too unstable to risk keeping it.” My own ears fell back against my head, but the sergeant-at-arms pressed forward, putting his muzzle a whisker’s breadth from mine. “He was my best friend, he was his father’s only son, and he could’ve been a great leader, but he gave it all up to play with his toys.” His breath was hot, and he hissed his words at me. “From the moment he got you, he was too busy to care about his barony, either the threats from outside or the rumors within. There, is that more to your liking?”

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding, but I didn’t withdraw. I met the lynx’s eyes with my own, my paws pressed tightly against the mug to keep them from shaking. “That may have been Baron Deterikh, but that was not my master. My master was deeply committed to Barony Deterikh’s safety and its future. If he wasn’t the baron his father was, it was because no one gave him a chance to be the baron.” Ice flooded my veins, but I couldn’t stop the flow of words; it felt as if they were being pulled out of me. My master’s litany rang in my ears as I spoke. “He wasn’t too busy to care; no one let him care more. He felt everyone’s eyes on him, all the time: his aunt’s, yours, the court’s. If someone didn’t like something he did, it was the stars or his mother, Great Family keep her. He could have done everything exactly as his father would have, and people would say he still wasn’t good enough. Did he act like a whelp at times? Absolutely, because that’s how he was treated! Hold someone to an impossible standard, measure his steps by a stride he can never match, and see how long it takes him to—”

In a flash, my master’s expression in that last moment of violence came to me, and my heart seized. His lips were curled back in a snarl, but the whites of his eyes were visible all the way around and his ears were pulled flat against his head. He wasn’t enraged; he was terrified. His blows weren’t aimed at me, but at everyone who had forced him into the hole from which he was desperately trying to escape. It was the same expression I must have had, the day I sat at my father’s funeral and felt every frown in the room judging my life by his. I dropped my head and closed my eyes. “To break and run,” I finished, barely above a whisper. My cheeks burned. “Sir.”

I clutched the mug to my chest and braced for the blow, but all I heard was the whisper of the mattress as Mister Valentin rose. His hinds shuffled against the stone floor, then stopped. “I think I liked it better when you were just the Baron’s plaything, Taneh.”

“I did as well, sir,” I murmured after a moment’s pause.

The lynx walked over to the bed and took the mug from my paws. “Listen, pet. I’ve barely slept or eaten since nightfall, Jazinsk’s troops are on their way, Iladin’s supposed to return to work on your muzzle, and Chelin and Inika should be back in a few hours with the Baron. I need a bath, a hot meal, and two hours of sleep. I suggest you get some more rest, while you still can.”

The lynx’s paws were cool where they touched me, and his fingers were gentle, almost delicate, as he turned my head to inspect the results of my master’s rage. I tried to speak, to explain that I had provoked my master into it, but my muzzle refused to open, pain lancing up the side of my head when I tried. Mister Valentin shook his head in response, laying a finger across his lips. “Don’t speak, pet; you’re hurt.” He smiled slightly. “So’s he, but we’ll take care of both of you.”

Without giving me time to wonder what he meant, Mister Valentin shifted onto one hind, then put a paw on my shoulder. “I’m going to get you onto the bed. Hold still, Taneh, this is going to hurt.” With that warning, he gingerly raised me to a sitting position, then lifted me into the air. Pain shot through me as I felt things inside me move when they shouldn’t, but only a few whimpers escaped me as the lynx carried me to my master’s bed and laid me upon it. Blood immediately soaked into my master’s pillow, but Mister Valentin just chuckled. “Good. Good pet,” the sergeant-at-arms crooned softly as he stroked between my ears with a paw. “That was rough, I know, but you did well. Iladin will be here soon; he’ll know what to do with you.”

I lifted a paw to Mister Valentin’s, then ran my stubby digits down his arm; it was the only gesture of thanks I could make for his kindness. The sergeant-at-arms took it in his fingers and squeezed gently, then rubbed his pads against the fur of my palm. “Listen, Taneh, you’ve been a good pet.” he said softly. “You’ve just been through something very rough, but it’s over now. He won’t ever hurt you again.”

I choked back a sob, but not from the lynx’s words or my injuries. In my mind’s eye, my master’s face loomed large, his lips locked in a snarl and tears streaming down his cheeks as his fists rose for the final blow. Remembering him that way, he seemed less like Baron Deterikh, and more like a wounded animal fighting for his life. I wanted to speak, but my muzzle wouldn’t let me. I struggled to sit up, tried to force it open enough to explain, but the pain was too great, and I collapsed back against the bed, fighting back tears.

“Easy, easy, pet.” Mister Valentin soothed. I heard the door to my master’s room bang, then two sets of hurried steps. A heavy-set wolf in a loose-fitting top and drawstring pants stepped into the light, carrying a pack on his shoulders. Behind him walked an elderly raccoon wearing a jacket thrown over a nightgown. The sergeant-at-arms rose and bowed. “Master Iladin, thank you for coming out at this hour.” He nodded to the guard. “Chelin, thank you; I’ll manage from here.”

While the wolf dropped his pack and left the room, Master Iladin approached the bed, fumbling in his jacket. He pulled out a pair of spectacles and pinched them to the bridge of his muzzle. “So maybe you’ll tell me what happened here.” He leaned in and squinted at me; his spectacles made his amber eyes look huge.

Mister Valentin crossed his arms over his chest. “Maybe you’ll tell me; you’re the one that pronounced the baron fit for the throne.”

The sage rose stiffly at that and turned to the sergeant-at-arms. “Erik did this? Wilik’s son?” The lynx nodded, and Master Iladin turned back to me with a sniff, his eyes going even wider. “I can’t believe it. There’s nothing in his charts suggesting this kind of fury!” He leaned in close and squinted, then brought one bony paw up to my muzzle and carefully turned it, making me moan.

“Listen, Iladin, charts or no, that’s Erik’s work.” Mister Valentin’s shook his head as he talked, his ears splayed. “He came crying to me with blood on his paws. I found his pet here in the floor, in that condition. I picked em up and put em in the bed.”

Master Iladin sniffed again, then rose and walked to the pack that Chelin dropped. “It’s completely unimaginable, though. I checked his charts myself. Twice!” He pulled out vials and jars, as well as a roll of white cloth. “Marek’s completely occluded by Oshka in House Mora, Zofia’s in Vira, yes I know that Gyuli is in Tsarka and not Krol where I’d have rather seen it, but… well, from here it’s conjecture without my maps.” He waved a paw dismissively and returned to the bed. “My point is that my pronouncement at the time was sound. I’m as surprised by this turn as you are.”

The lynx waved a paw dismissively. “You’ll have time for your charts tomorrow. Tonight I need to know if you can help the baron’s pet. Ey’s my responsibility.”

“I already am,” the sage replied. He took a seat near the edge of the bed. “The physical, I can fix; the rest….” He began sprinkling the powders on my muzzle; they stung at first, making me whimper, but the pain did begin to ease afterwards. He forced my jaws apart enough to pour the liquid past my lips. It tasted dank and sour, and I started to gag, but he put a paw over my lips. “Hold that as long as you can, then swallow; it will soften the bones and let me work.”

With that admonition, I settled back against my master’s bed and counted in my head, trying not to spit out the foul-tasting brew. With my muzzle full, I could only breathe through my nose, filling my nostrils with the moldy smell. It began to trickle down my throat, and I struggled not to gag. By sixteen, though, I could no longer hold back, and I pitched forward. Mister Valentin caught my shoulder, but I choked down the potion with a cough. Before I could lie back, though, the sage’s other paw caught the underside of my muzzle and gently eased it forward. I felt a twinge of pain, but nothing like the agony of before as he carefully worked my jaws apart.

As soon as Master Iladin’s fingers were free of my muzzle, I stretched it open in a yawn, which made Mister Valentin smile. “That’s a good sign.”

Master Iladin nodded. “It’s a step. He’s likely got cracked ribs and those clawmarks are deep.” He added another sprinkling of powders to my cheek, then gently pressed the cloth down over them. “Have him hold that there; it will stop the bleeding and take away some of the pain. “I’ll want to go home and fetch a few things. In the meantime, he should sleep if he can.”

“It’s ‘ey,’” Mister Valentin corrected with a chuckle, “but yes, ey should. Listen, Iladin, thank you again for coming so quickly. Will ey make it to morning?”

The sage nodded again with a sniff. “Assuming you can keep em from moving, yes. I’ll want to do some fine work on eir muzzle, and ey’ll be weak for a few days, but ey’ll survive.”

The sergeant-at-arms sagged forward at that, then put a paw gently on the top of my head. “You gave me quite a scare, pet. Now, I just need to follow up with Erik, make sure he’s—” A knock at the door interrupted him, and the lynx turned. “Oh, good, you’re… not Erik. Chelin, where’s the baron?”

The stocky wolf from before shook his head, leaning against the door frame. “His mount was gone when I returned, sir, as was my spear.” He wheezed softly as he spoke. “The outer gatekeepers said they saw him riding westward, back towards Jazinsk.”

Mister Valentin stood, struck dumb as if poleaxed. “He… oh, Great Family.” He gripped his muzzle in his paws. “Wake Inika and your two best archers. Wear out as many horses as you need, but get him back. I don’t care if you have to kill his mount to do it; if he reaches the front, he’s a dead man.”

Breathe, Taneh, I reminded myself, forcing myself up onto my knees. My heart pounded in my chest and blood pulsed in my temples. Find the lights. Locate the lights inside, the lights all around you. My chest rose and fell raggedly, air whistling in my muzzle. Just a pet, just an animal. What happens to you is your master’s responsibility. Yours is to serve, to do as you’re told. I closed my eyes and lowered my head. One… two… I drew in a shuddering breath, then slumped forward. By six, I felt my shoulders relaxing. At nine, my paws were no longer shaking. On twelve, I inhaled deeply, then released, focused on the dancing, flickering lights. Twelve lights.

Thirteen… fourteen… No more flickering motes appeared, but I continued to count as if they could, sinking further into myself. Soon I had forgotten how many lights there were, and began counting them again, and again. My heart stilled and my breathing eased. In and out, over and over. The sky continued to darken outside the meager windows, and the room sank into shadow. The mattress beneath me began to fade, as did the walls around. Only the lights remained. Twelve lights, and I, flickering as I let myself sink away from awareness. Breathe, relax, and obey. I was ready.

A loud bang pulled me mostly out of my reverie. I opened my eyes to see my master, backlit by the witchlights in the parlor, the door against the wall. His face was a mask, with his ears flat against his head and his tail brushed out behind him. He stood rigidly at attention, though his stiff formal jacket hung limply on him as if wilted. His eyes met mine, then looked me over, his upper lip curling. “So much for following orders.”

It took me a moment to think back to the last words he had said to me, before sending me to his room. As soon as I remembered them, though, I came fully awake, my ears reddening sharply. “Sir.” I ducked my head and moved my paws to between my legs, but the guilt I’d pushed aside before came back to me. My muzzle went dry when I tried to swallow. “I was, sir, but I…” I bit my lip.

My master dropped onto the edge of the bed and pressed the pads of his paws to his eyes. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters.”

I put my paws back on my knees. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t think I could, but I was so eager, and I—”

“I said forget it, pet,” my master repeated. Then, a moment later, he leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees. “I thought you needed help with that, or have you been lying to me?” He sneered the word “help,” glaring down the length of his muzzle.

“No, sir!” I blurted. “I just… I don’t know how it happened, sir.” My voice wavered and I lowered my gaze. “I… I disappointed you, sir.”

The baron fell back against his bed with a groan. “I’m getting quite used to disappointment. You’re just one more source.”

The words hit with me the force of a slap. “I’m sorry, sir,” I whimpered. “Please, allow me to make it up to you.”

I started to rise, reaching out for the waist of his pants, when suddenly the baron was on his hinds again. “Stop!” His paw rose in a backswing, and I cringed, lifting my paws to shield my muzzle, but he pressed his fingerpads to his forehead. “Great Family, don’t you ever stop? I swear, you’re as bad as Datsia! I can pleasure myself, thank you! I don’t need your help. I don’t even want your help!” He spat the last at me, clutching his head in his paws.

I ducked my head and swallowed hard. “Did the council go well, sir?” I asked timidly, hoping to change the subject.

The baron was silent for several seconds. “Barony Jazinsk has rendered their decision.” My master’s voice was completely hollow. “A state of aggression exists between them and Barony Deterikh, for crimes against nature.”

I hung my head; the tension I had pushed aside came home in full force. My chest seized; the air inside me felt like lead. “You couldn’t stop it?”

The next moment, stars sparked to life on the side of my face. I tumbled to my side, clutching at my muzzle, too shocked for a few moments to realize how much pain I was in. “Damn you!” the baron howled. “Comets and dust on the lot of you!” The kick that followed landed in the middle of my chest, sending me flat to the floor, gasping for breath. “I’m sick of it! All of it! I’m sick of all of you!”

I fought to get air back inside of me. “Master, I—”

The baron stomped down on my stomach, dropping his full weight onto me, making me gag and cramping my chest. “Great Family, will you just stop!” Another kick slammed into my side, knocking what little wind I had recovered back out of me again. “You keep pushing and pushing and you don’t stop!” His voice rose to a shout with every blow, adding his anger to its force. “Is this what you wanted? Is it? Answer me!” His toeclaws gouged at my cheek when his hind hit me again. “I’m never good enough for you or I’m never wise enough or strong enough or blessed enough and I’m sick of it! All I want is just to be left alone and you just won’t stop!”

This was no corporal punishment; this was a beating, merciless and savage. His words struck my ears as he kicked me over and over, head and chest and legs. “I’m sick of being told what to do! All of you! You, and Datsia, and Valentin! This is my barony! Mine! I’ll do what I want! Whatever I want! However I want! I’m sick of you making all the rules and telling me I’m not good enough! Sick, do you hear me! Answer me, damn you!” Blood poured from my cheek and pain blistered all over my arms and chest. I opened my muzzle to cry, to beg, to say anything that would make the pain stop, but my master wasn’t listening; he was too busy screaming as he rose back to his hinds.

The baron dropped to his knees, bringing his elbow down on my chest. I tried to scream, but there was no air in my lungs. I clutched my arms to my chest, struggling to breathe, and then the baron drew back, his fists clenched together. “I’ve had enough!” His paws slammed square into my muzzle, and I heard more than felt the crunch beneath them. My entire head went cold and fire crawled under my skin. Copper coated my tongue. I tried to open my jaw, but something caught and pain split my head, bringing tears to my eyes. A low whimper was the only sound I could make, accompanied by feebly batting at my master’s arm.

Several seconds passed while I waited for the next blow, but it never came. “Great Family.” The words left my master’s muzzle in a low, awful whisper. “I—” He rose to his hinds, blood dripping from his claws. The fur on one of his hinds glistened. His voice shook, his eyes wide, staring down at me. “Taneh, I—” I heard one hindfall, then another, as he backed away. “Oh, Koshki, I’m sorry, I’m… I’m so sorry, I… V—Valentin!” Then the wolf turned, crying out for his sergeant-at-arms, while I clutched my shattered world in my paws and tried not to exist.

I bowed my head, blushing; the skin where his paw landed felt warm, as did my cheeks. “Yes, sir.” I carefully carried the tea and servings, then gingerly lowered its lip to the edge of the table and extracted my paws from beneath. The porcelain pot slid and the cups clattered, but I was able to set it down without dropping it. “Will you have any need of me before then?”

My master grinned. “No time for that, I fear, pet. Tonight will run long, so you’ll just have to wait.” He approached from behind and put his arms around me, pressing himself against my back. “Eager, ready, and sadly, quite alone.” His claws sought out my nipples and pinched them, making me gasp, my chains rattling as I shivered. “You’ll be able to hear Valentin and I in the next room, and no doubt your mind will be thinking of all the ways you could keep us… entertained… but you’ll have to wait in the bedroom until we’re done, and I have no idea how late we’ll be planning.” Stoked by the slap, the fires within me caught at his words, growing into a burning need. I braced my paws against the table and pressed myself against my master’s chest and thighs, his thickening sheath making a visible tent within his pants. I rubbed myself against it, panting quietly as he continued to torment me with his words.

“No words, pet. Not a sound once you’re in the bedroom. You’ll have to be silent while you wait, or else you might disturb us. No, no, you’ll have to be as still as you can, as long as you can. Free to touch, to stroke, to caress… but not to finish, or even to beg for release.” He slid one of his paws down my chest, dragging his claws through my fur, setting my nerves alight. He cupped my sex in his fingers, and reflexively I tried to rock my hips, but he held me fast, growling in my ear. “I said silent, pet, and still. You’ll just have to make do with thinking about all the ways I might pleasure you later, all the ways you might please for some satisfaction… if I have time. I might not. I might just… leave you on your mat and come to bed. It will likely be a very late night, and you’ll—”

I cried out in arousal, unable to hold myself back, but my master just tightened his grip around me, grabbing the chains at my collar and tugging them for emphasis. His shaft, rock-hard through his pants, pressed against my rump, teasing me through the thin fabric. “—just have to wait until my pleasure to have yours. Is that understood… pet?”

I opened my muzzle to try to accept, but then closed it quickly and gave the barest nod of my head. My chest was heaving and the flame inside of me had become a aching need, one that every touch and every word made worse. His pads burned where they touched. Despite my shivering, though, I did my best to hold perfectly still, as I’d been told, blushing from eartip to tail and quivering with desire.

My master withdrew his paws and stepped away. “Good. Very good.” Then his paws were at my shoulders, spinning me to face him. His muzzle found mine, and his tongue wasted no time in pressing between my lips. He moaned into me, and I echoed his passion, wrapping my arms around his waist and entwining his tongue with mine. He coaxed mine into his muzzle and suckled on it, then thrust his own back into me, exploring me from within. Soft whimpers escaped him as we kissed, and he hugged me tightly to his chest. I sank into his arms, lost in his scent, in the feel of my master against me, in my own need for him.

“Are the two of you quite finished?” Mister Valentin called from the door.

Chastened, my master withdrew suddenly. “I think so,” he said with a faint chuckle. He gave my muzzle a final lick, then hooked a finger under my chin and lifted my gaze to his. He smiled at me, his golden eyes aglow with tenderness and desire, and I felt something very unlike the passion of earlier. It was warm and it filled me, but it lacked urgency; it felt like a glow, deep in my chest. I did my best to smile back, but my cheeks reddened and I quietly lowered my eyes again. “Go on,” my master murmured. “Off to the bedroom with you. Valentin and I have work to do.”

I nodded once, then turned and shuffled as quietly as I could to the short hall to my master’s bedchambers, holding my chains taut to keep them from rattling. Once the door was closed behind me, I dropped to my knees and put my paws between my legs. I knew I was only making my frustration worse, but I was so enflamed that, even despite my orders, I couldn’t keep my paws away from myself. Dozens of images flashed through my head as I rubbed and caressed myself, from kneeling beneath the table as my master worked and licking at his sheath; to my master and Mister Valentin taking me in the middle of the table, one between my legs and the other in my muzzle.

I bit down on my lip to silence my cries and slid two digits into my sex, pressing my nethers against my wrist. My hips bucked, reflexively, as I imagined my master beneath me, lying back with his paws behind his head, a beatific smile on his muzzle as I worked to bring him to release within me. A low whine escaped me and I caught my breath, but each time I stopped, the ache and emptiness inside me grew. It was a cycle I knew all too well, needing another’s touch to release it, and yet for all that my frustrations swelled inside me, I found myself eager for them, eager to need, eager to serve. This is my place. This is my life, not a person. Not even a proper animal. Just my master’s pet, to use as he wished. Just a plaything for others’ enjoyment. Just—

Something within me shifted, some vital element, and I rubbed frantically, urgently, over my sex with my useless forepaws, clamping down on my lips with my teeth. Stars sparkled behind my tightly-clenched eyelids as I followed that thought. Just a slave, just a toy, just a thing to be used. Not a person, not any more. Never had been, never wanted to be. This is what I always wanted, this life, serving my master, being his pet. I choked down my cry, tasting blood as my body spasmed, lightning flashing through me as it had during the ritual. I collapsed onto the mat, my entire body shaking from the strength of my release.

I lay still for some time after that, sprawled on my back, trying to breathe and recover my strength. Guilt flickered inside of me, having disobeyed my orders, and yet I had trouble feeling it. The thoughts themselves were too strong to ignore, too powerful to protest. It felt like an admission too long in the making, a purging of secrets, at least to myself. Despite the sticky mess in my fur and the exhaustion, I felt… clean. Happy.

The door slammed open, and Mister Valentin’s head thrust into the opening, snapping about this way and that. “Taneh, where—Matska’s grace!” As I scrambled up onto my knees and dropped my gaze, the sergeant-at-arms walked into the room, ignoring me completely. “It smells like a brothel in here; when’s the last time he aired out his room?” He strode past me to his wardrobe and rummaged through it, then extracted a formal shirt and jacket. Turning, he hurried back to the door.

I lifted my head and risked a question. “Sir? What’s going on?”

The lynx paused, briefly, without turning to face me. “Dion’s just returned from Jazinsk; the baron’s called a formal council and a rider’s been sent to tell Datsia. Sorry, you’re probably on your own tonight.” Then he left, and with him so did my all of my joy.

My master grinned and waved dismissively. “It’s what I told em to do.” He shoved the door closed behind him as he approached, then sat on the edge of the table to look down at me, drops of the sergeant-at-arms’ release slicking my fur. “Did he seem appreciative?”

I lowered my head, but not before letting my master see my smile. I licked at my muzzle, dabbing at a patch of drying desire on my chin with my tongue. “Yes, sir.”

The baron’s paw touched the back of my head and stroked my ears. “Good pet.” Turning his attention to Valentin, he let out a chuckle. “Over here, though? I’d have thought one of the couches would be more comfortable.”

The lynx let go of my shoulder and grabbed for his leggings. “It wasn’t expected.” He hastily tugged them upwards, then straightened his shirt. “Shouldn’t you still be at court? Sir?”

Even before the grumble was out of his throat, my master’s fingers tensed against my ears, which made me whimper slightly. He hastily pulled his paw away, then walked towards the back of the room. “Likely,” he admitted as he walked. “I’d just had enough of hearing people comment on Taneh, and eir absence, around the edges of my conversations.” He sighed and dropped heavily onto a seat. “You were right, it turns out. It won’t be a trend any time soon. Pity, that.” His claws snapped together loudly. “Taneh, heel. So, what is it you don’t understand?”

The lynx followed as I scrambled over to kneel in front of my master, putting my head in his lap as I had for his sergeant-at-arms a moment ago. “What motivates someone to do something like… that.” He dropped onto the other end of the baron’s couch. “Ey explained it, but it still makes little enough sense.” He held up a paw. “I asked.”

The baron’s paw, warm and gentle, stroked the back of my neck and shoulders. “It’s simple, really. Do you remember your squireship?”

The lynx chuffed irritably. “I remember envying the common troops; they got to sleep at night.”

“Fair,” the baron chuckled in response. “So, consider. I know Aunt Datsia trained you herself; did she ever deliberately try to trick you? Give you instructions you couldn’t possibly follow, hoping to make you fail?”

Mister Valentin groaned. “Often. Eventually I just learned to tell when she was giving an order she expected me to follow and when she was trying to trap me.” His paw touched my shoulder. “I still can’t always tell with Dion. That’s why I still don’t trust him. Speaking of which, Erik, when he gets back….”

“Yes?” The wolf’s petting paused. “What is it?”

The sergeant-at-arms paused, then shook his head. “No, nothing. Listen, we need to be ready for whatever he reports. I still want to go over that plan with you later tonight.”

“Oh, of course,” my master replied. “In the meantime, though, I was answering your question.” He leaned back on the couch. “Imagine for a moment that the whole world, and every single person in it, made you feel as you did when you were most confused. Imagine never knowing if what you’re doing is what you’re supposed to be doing. Imagine doubting everything you did, because you could have done something else. Imagine never having the assurance that you’re actually doing what’s right.”

Mister Valentin leaned forward. “No, I can’t say I’ve ever felt that way.” His voice was unusually quiet. “But I think I can imagine how someone who did might feel.”

My master smiled and shifted in his seat, his paws on his belt. He lifted his rump, then tugged down his own leggings. Patting his thigh, he wiggled a finger at me. “Forward. Lick.” Without waiting for more instruction, I did as commanded, leaning against the baron’s upper legs and sliding my tongue beneath his sheath, caressing the wolf’s sensitive orbs as I had the lynx before. He let out a groan and scratched the base of my ears with his claws. “This is easy. This is simple. This is an order to be followed. Following it becomes its own reward, that having made eir owner happy. If you behave well, you’re rewarded; if you don’t, you’re punished. You know what to do. You know what your role is.”

The lynx was quiet for a few moments after that. “Listen, Erik… it sounds like you’ve got a good idea of what slaves like Taneh want.” There was a silence after that, and then a paw on my side. “Ey was quite good earlier. Good training.” I blushed at the compliment, but my attentions were on my master’s sheath, the scent of his musk and the taste of his fur. His shaft was starting to respond to my attentions, and I shifted my focus there, drawing a fresh groan out of him.

“Ey’s a good pet, yes,” my master agreed. “Very well-behaved.” Hearing them talk about me as if I weren’t there was starting to inflame my needs again, and I squirmed between my master’s legs, whimpering softly as I licked. “Hear that sound?” My master chuckled, stroking a paw up along my ear. “Ey’s eager. Ey needs a bit of regular release, or else ey gets cranky. Care to assist, Valentin?”

“Assist?” The lynx sounded startled, but then chuckled in return. “If the baron wishes it, though I don’t think I’m ready for more.”

That made the baron laugh. “Ey’s quite good at that, yes.” His paw tapped my shoulder. “Taneh, up. One knee on the couch, rump down.” Reluctantly, I pulled my muzzle from my master’s groin long enough to rise from the ground, then quickly returned to my previous work once in position. In the position my master indicated, my sex was easily within Mister Valentin’s reach. “Just pet em,” my master said. “Ey’ll do the rest.”

Mister Valentin chuffed again, but there was humor in his voice as well as nervousness when he spoke. “Just… part of owning a pet, I suppose. Feeding, grooming, keeping them healthy.” I whimpered softly at his words, eagerly sucking my master’s shaft as the lynx’s fingers stroked over my sex. My tail twitched, and I began to rock my hips, pressing back against his fingers. He wasn’t as skilled as my master, but he was still encouraging. He parted my sex and caressed gently between them. “Ey is quite an eager pet, isn’t ey?”

My master panted a laugh. “Usually. Ey’s always glad for the touch, the chance to be intimate. I don’t think Taneh can take care of eirself; ey needs a little help from others for that, so ey’s always glad to earn your release, aren’t you, pet?”

I whimpered again, squinting my eyes. Part of me still wanted to rebel against the words, but with my muzzle around my master’s shaft and my tail in the air, rocking back against Mister Valentin’s fingers, I knew I was in no position to do so. “Yes sir,” I mumbled around the wolf’s shaft, caressing it eagerly with my tongue. With the lynx working his fingers between my paws and my master’s scent in my muzzle, it was hard to focus on anything else.

“Good pet,” my master crooned. “When you’ve given me mine, you may have yours. Fair, Valentin?”

The lynx laughed. “Ey will have earned it by that point, I think.” His fingers grew more insistent, pressing against the opening between my legs, but as I tried to rock back, he withdrew his paw. “Once the baron says it’s okay, Taneh.”

I whined in response and threw myself into my efforts, trying to narrow my thoughts down to my master’s shaft. My thighs ached, wishing to be filled, and it was easy to imagine Mister Valentin behind me, pressing himself against my legs, taking me as I suckled. I let out a moan, letting the images play out in my mind as I caressed the wolf’s flesh with my tongue. His panting quickly turned to whines as he tensed under my attention, before he let out a howl and pulled my muzzle down onto his cock, filling me with his seed. I pressed my lips to his shaft, shuddering in anticipation as I swallowed his offering.

Several seconds passed, during which my master did little more than pant and recover from his release. He slumped back against the back of the couch and moaned softly. “Oh, pet… you’ve done very well. Valentin, please?”

“Of course, sir,” the lynx replied. He slid one, then a second finger into me, drawing a moan out of me as he teased my nethers. “Ey’s done well, served eir master, and deserves a reward. This is how you’re supposed to treat good pets, isn’t it, sir?” His thumb slipped between my lips, caressing the sensitive flesh there. I bucked my hips, whimpering around my master’s still-hard shaft as I rocked myself back and forth, pushing myself closer to release. Mister Valentin’s movements were still a bit awkward, but he was gentle and insistent and before long I was panting as heavily as my master had under my efforts.

Mister Valentin wrapped his other paw around my tail and tugged, once, making me jump, then said quietly, “Now, pet.”

That was the only encouragement I needed. Tensing from eartip to toe, I gripped his fingers within me, feeling something give way inside. A flood of heat and warmth washed through me, and I cried out against my master’s cock, paws shaking as I tried to support myself as I released. A second wave passed in the wake of the first, and I sagged into my master’s lap, moaning weakly into my master’s sheath. My muscles trembled, and everywhere I felt warm and eager. Despite my climax, I felt ready for another, even as I closed my eyes and tried to curl up on the couch.

“You were right, Erik,” the lynx said as he rose, wiping his paws together. “Ey is pretty easy to understand when you explain it that way. You should go clean yourself and get back to court. I’ll see you here after supper so we can work up that plan.”

“Hunh?” My master lifted his head, then sagged back against the couch. “Yes, of course. Court. Up, pet.” He tapped me on the shoulder.

As I slid off of the couch and stood beside my master, the lynx waved and walked to the door. “I’ll have someone send fresh linens. I suspect you’ll need them.”