Her Theater of Judgment

Noah reached my position in exactly three minutes; it was like his life depended on it. I didn't even hear his footsteps.

One moment the air beside me was still, and the next it shimmered with a force I knew all too well. There he was, coat snapping in the wind, eyes scanning the area for threats.

I couldn't help but giggle at just how fast he had gotten here. "Welcome, my knight in murder armor." I stepped forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

With him here, we can continue on with our investigation into this place.

He exhaled with a sigh of relief and wrapped an arm around my waist. "If anyone touched you, they won't leave this city alive."

I tilted my head, pointing at the crumbling building in front of us where laughter spilled out through boarded windows hung with cheap curtains.

"That," I said, my voice now laced with venom, "is a brothel."

His face darkened, but he didn't say anything.

I continued, "The girls working there were sold into slavery by their own families. Taken by force and stripped of choice, they now comply just to survive." I wasn't against the idea of a brothel, but only if it involved consent. This wasn't that. "Noah… the men running this place thinks they're above your laws."

He was visibly distraught by my words, "I understand."

Then I smiled with wicked intent. "I live by the motto: treat kindness with kindness and evil with evil."

Noah's eyes met mine with that beautiful and wickedly charming smile.

"Your wish," he said his voice smooth as a blade being drawn, "is my command."

Suddenly, the air shifted, followed by the muffled thuds of boots landing in the snow-dusted streets behind us.

Ten of Noah's elite guards emerged in tight formation, weapons drawn with ice-cold expressions. These were men and women trained for war, not politics. They were the finest and most loyal knights in all of the Coldmere Archduchy.

He didn't even have to gesture; they all knew what to do.

I simply smiled and watched Noah do his thing.

The place was completely surrounded, and now the fun could truly begin. While flanked by Bor and Kellan, we approached the brothel to find out just what's going on inside.

Livia stayed back with the young girl who led us here, as it was probably better she didn't see what was about to happen inside.

As we approached one of the men outside, clearly a bouncer with arms crossed and a smirk forming across his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but he didn't get a chance.

Bor planted his fist against the man's chest, caving it in visibly. He flew backwards through the door like a sack of potatoes and landed in a heap, groaning.

Blood profusely draining from the man's mouth as he tried hard to stand, I stepped delicately over him with Noah's help.

The music faltered as the scent of cheap perfume mixed with sweat hit me like a punch to the gut.

Inside, low lights flickered while men sat drinking and laughing. Several girls, dressed in almost nothing, were scattered among them. Their eyes widened, faces pale with terror. The girls couldn't have been much older than fourteen.

I clenched my fists in utter disbelief at the different level of human rights between this world and my old one.

After we crowded the front entrance, locking all those inside with nowhere to go, I smiled. Knowing chaos had entered the building, it was ready to unleash its full might.

Kellan, to make damn sure no one could escape, puts his enormous shield in the doorframe. It didn't just sit there, but somehow he broke the ground, making it impossible to move.

Bors was a battering ram on legs, flipping tables, cracking ribs, and dragging men out from behind curtains by their greasy collars while they screamed.

Noah's men all at once invaded the building, taking any life that wouldn't surrender.

One by one, the handlers, guards, and patrons were taken down, disarmed, beaten, or forced to their knees in the center of the parlor. Some bled openly. Others whimpered, reduced to pathetic remnants of the power they once believed was theirs.

There were some who tried to throw themselves out the window, but with more forces outside, they didn't get too far.

Through it all, my protector stood beside me, making sure I was completely safe through this whole ordeal. His eyes were fixed on me; I assumed he was waiting to see what I would do next.

He always enjoyed my performances, so he remained a willing passenger for the ride. He would protect me if anything went wrong, and it was about to get messy.

I also couldn't lie to myself; his face was probably the reason I do this even more than before. The hunger, admiration, and how his hand tightened slightly at his side. It brought me great joy to have this kind of power, especially when he encouraged me to act this way.

Noah took pleasure in giving it to me, and I embraced it without hesitation.

"Line them up!" I commanded with a cold and clear tone, "Shoulder to shoulder."

The men were dragged, ten in total. Each one bruised and furious completely humiliated. They glared, muttered curses under their breath, but not one dared to raise their voice when I stepped forward, a new golden dagger in hand.

After the show of force in front of the nobles, Noah had another dagger created for me. I truly appreciated the gesture since I wanted nothing to do with something that had been touched by so many disgusting lips.

I paced slowly in front of them, savoring the quiet fear that filled the room. Every eye was on me, waiting for my next move.

Noah stood just behind, arms folded. His silence was louder than any threat could ever be, with that killing intent always ready to explode out.

"Let's play a game," I said with a sweet tone, something none of these men, I'm sure, understood, stopping in front of the first contestant.

I twirled the dagger between my fingers, watching the way his eyes tracked it nervously.

"I'm going to ask a very simple question, and you'll answer. Depending on what you say, there's a chance you might just get out of here alive." Of course, in reality, all these men will most likely die.

There's no place for predators in my lands, especially with my daughter soon to be born and one day walking these very streets.

He sneered. "You think you're…"

Without waiting to hear what he was about to say, I interrupted, "I am the Archduchess of Coldmere, and you're currently breathing because I said not to kill you. Shall we test how long my mercy will last?"

No more words flowed out of his mouth, but his face was still filled with contempt.

"Name," I inquired.

He swallowed hard. "Garel Drent."

"What's your occupation?"

"I only run the books, only numbers, I swear!"

I gave a long, thoughtful hum and moved to the next, "Name?"

"Thilo Marren."

"What do you do here?"

He hesitated for a second and then spoke, "Security."

"Security," I echoed. "So you're supposed to protect..." My disgust for this man couldn't be any higher. "Is it protection for you to allow young girls to be treated this way?"

It was clear he wanted to speak but held his tongue. I could guess what he was thinking, that it was all fair and justified because the girls were just their products, subject to whatever treatment they saw fit.

I smiled and then turned to the next, "Name?"

"Rashid Velk."

"What do you do here?" The look on everyone's faces was skeptical, not understanding what my intentions were.

"Recruitment," he said without any shame. "Girls need money, and we offered work. What's the problem?"

Bors let out a groan from behind; Rashid flinched.

"Ah," I said with acknowledgement. "So you're the one who brings in these girls against their will?"

"That's not true!" He roared. "We provide them with opportunities, and they take us up on it."

"Is that so? Then why have I come across someone who was brought here against their will?" I couldn't help but look out into the street where that young girl from earlier was still standing.

"It wasn't me; I do everything legit."

"Hmm…" There were many girls here, so why not just ask them? "How many of you came here willingly?" I said as I pointed to the girls who were in a corner.

The room remained completely silent, none of them willing to speak up for this man's false claims.

After that outburst I continued on through the group of individuals who run this place, finding out whatever I could.

Each of them, in one way or another, tried to downplay their role. They claimed to be misunderstood and harmless, merely doing the job they were hired for.

The others were scum who came to indulge in their lust with underage girls.

I obviously knew better and just let them speak. Why did I ask for their names and occupations? It wasn't because I wanted to know.

I was just curious what pathetic lies they'd come up with when cornered like rats. Their desperation was… amusing.

Their despair was something I didn't even realize I enjoyed experiencing.

Everyone here knew their time had come and that there was no coming back from this.

Noah's watchful gaze followed me like a hawk, ensuring none of them dared make a move. Beneath that sharp focus was a quiet admiration, something I had grown used to seeing in his eyes.

I would have kissed him right then and there, even with the filth at my feet, if we weren't standing on the edge of judgment.

So instead, I turned to him with a smile that didn't reach my eyes.

"I'm ready to deliver sentencing," I said lightly, as if I had no regrets at all. "Would you like to do the honors, or shall I?"

He bowed his head slightly, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

"This is your theater, my love. I'm just here to enjoy the show."

His words made me weak in the knees; I also had this sudden urge to go jump onto his lap.

Noah's lingering smile was mesmerizing as I probably stared a little too long at him. But, honestly, even though I've gotten used to his stares, I still can't help but be pulled into his rhythm.

"I'm not particularly fond of hurting other people," I said sweetly, stepping closer to him. "But I also don't shy away from it. I just… prefer not to swing the weapon myself."

I turned to the line of men still on their knees, bloody, pitiful, but far from innocent.

"Can someone give me a dagger?" I asked.

Without a word, Noah drew one from his belt and placed it into my hand, hilt-first, the metal still warm from his body.

Even though I held my beautiful golden blade, I wasn't parting with it.

I walked forward, slow and deliberate, to create even more tension. With a flick of the wrist, I threw the dagger into the ground in front of those men.

The clatter of steel silenced the room, freezing the accused, who didn't know what to make of it. Most of them flinched, and one even whimpered.

I turned back around, casually strolling to where Noah had taken a seat atop a table like he owned the place. Which, this was the North, so he more or less did.

I leaned into him, his arms closing around my body.

While looking at the men, I spoke, "The last man to survive… wins your freedom."

Then I smiled, "Probably."

Gasps rippled through the room.

One of them chokes out, "You're not joking?"

I didn't even look at him. "Am I?"

The weight of the silence said enough. Behind me, Bor's deep chuckle rumbled through the room like thunder. Kellan didn't say anything, but his face told the story of everyone else on my side.

Justice was about to be served.

Noah just tilted his head towards me, the most sinister smirk on his lips. "You always find such creative ways to entertain me."

I couldn't help but kiss him, and then I turned back around. "Well… gentlemen, that blade won't pick itself up."

They all stared at one another, each hesitating at the same time. Every one of them was weighing their chances of reaching the dagger and whether they could defend themselves the moment they acquired it.

The second one of them finally went for it; all hell broke loose.

He was able to reach the hilt of the dagger and close his fingers around it, but he got dogpiled by the other nine unwilling to concede their lives.