Guinevere Lunaris had just killed two people in under thirty seconds. Her composure held because her emotions had vacated the premises, hovering somewhere out of reach. It was like this was happening to someone else and she was merely an observer.
RULE 14: They think you meant it? You meant it. Shut your mouth. Half of every legend is bullshit.
The silence that followed was louder than the two kill throws combined.
Three seconds. Five. Seven. Ten. Eleven seconds before anything happened. Guinevere counted. Neither she nor the commander broke eye contact the entire time.
Without looking away from her, the commander spoke first in Setharii. "Weapons. All of them. Now."
Every blade in the room was drawn. Bows rose from the perimeters. And Guinevere stood in the center of the kill box with nothing in her hands.
Confirmation that she'd just paid her first night, and the whore was already working for free.
The commander smiled. "Your move, sweetheart."
