Maeve stilled at the touch and her face wrinkled in confusion. Touch wasn’t something she was used to, let alone touch as soft and threatening as that. She breathed through her nose and managed a voice that was just above a whisper. “Give it your best shot…” It wasn’t said with contempt but with sass. “I’m hoping I’m a good match for your skills, Mistress.”
“Oh, I will...” she grinned in reply to the girl’s soft words. “I hope so. I have a feeling we’ll prove... compatible...” she continued, moving her hand along the girl’s jawline, letting her thumb brush softly against the slave’s lips. After lingering like that for a few moments, gazing intently into the slave’s eyes, Ranavalona withdrew her hand, signalling to the guard to open the cell door.















