First Lesson in Servitude

The bandits thought they had escaped the worst of it.

Sure, they were shackled to servitude, but what was a little hard labor compared to the cold steel of an executioner's blade? A few sore muscles? A little sweat? That was a bargain. Maybe—just maybe—this girl wasn't as ruthless as she seemed.

They were wrong.

The moment they swore fealty, the illusion shattered. Lyrasia didn't simply command them—she owned them. The merchant-warrior they had underestimated morphed into something far more insidious:

A taskmaster with an iron will and a cruelly efficient mind.

"First rule," Lyrasia announced, her voice cutting through the frigid night air like the edge of a whetted dagger. "You do what I say. When I say it. Exactly as I say it. No questions. No complaints."

Her lips curled into a deceptively sweet smile. "Because if you mess up, I will make sure you regret it."