“Ah, a fighter. Too bad you’re in chains, love, and not in a position to bargain.” Musing yet at least one of them spoke up, the others seemed to know their place already. Devan took the girl’s hand, inspecting it to find out what the girl could have been. A servant? No her hands were too soft and smooth for that but they were slightly dry which would be a sign she did work in some way. Or she was obsessed with washing them with rough soap. “Let me guess.. chambermaid or lady in waiting perhaps? Bold, though I don’t think you spoke to your king with such a tongue. Unless he favoured you, you are pretty after all.” He took her by her chin again, more roughly this time, his thumb pressing against her lower lip. “But all that is past. And you need a lesson.”
Devan smirked, letting go of her with a slightly push before turning her around and then leaning against her back whilst staying near her ear. “See my merry men here are not tired. War is past but they are hungry. They’re wolves and they do like a feisty little rabbit, and as feisty as you are I don’t think you’d last the night.” He smirked as some of the men whistled or hit their cups against the tables. “So tell me, darling, do you feel like dancing with the wolves?”
She watched him fro a minute as he took her hand, seemingly looking it over, checking it for god only knew what. “Correct, handmaiden to the Queen. My King never laid a finger on me and I was not the one he favoured.” She told him honestly. Eyes on him so he knew she was conveying truth. Though the thought of these men thinking her King favoured her in such away made her feel sick to her stomach. In reality, it had been her mother who had been the favoured servant. Chocolate coloured eyes glanced along the other women as she heard a tell tale intake of breath indicating speech. “And are you the one to teach me this lesson?”
“Your majesty.” Malia rolled her eyes, as the other maid spoke, the blonde obviously trying to gain favour. “She is a bastard.” it was more vague than Malia expected, but the indication was still clear.
“Merry men is not an apt description.” the muttered to herself, her back arching a little as he leaned against it. His description of wolves on the other hand was correct and her eyes closed so she couldn’t have to look at their leering faces. “Forced submission, is not true submission.” she grumbled, eyes still squeezing tightly shut, so she wouldn’t have to watch the wolves glances. "And what is it you expect me to say to stop you from tossing me to the wolves? That I will be obedient? What do you expect from my obedience?” those any of his men that tried would end up on the floor hoping their jewels were still usable.