RULE 1:Walk into every room like you've already fucked everyone in it and they should be grateful.
Renwick Lunaris said that to Cassian once, before a treaty summit when Guinevere was eight and always listening. He also told Cassian that lessons weren't yours unless you took them.
Fast forward twelve years, Guinevere Lunaris found herself in a negotiation.
The wards hit her the second she entered the throne room. It felt like a weight pressing against her chest and she couldn't feel her wolf.
The throne sat on a raised dais at the far end. A singular throne. No second chair. Not even a stool. The architectural rejection was thorough.
RULE 2:Keep your legs moving and your face shut. Flinch and they'll fuck you standing.
The hostages were on their knees chained on the sides of the throne room. Guinevere had seen the same setup in Lunaris. The only difference was their hands were bound behind their backs with dragon iron chain instead of silver. Several were bleeding.
