Chapter 6: The Meeting

Gray’s fleshy face wore an expression of false respect.

“Your Highness, these three foreign women are stubborn and hard to break.” He deliberately leaned closer, trying to bring the smell of blood to the pampered prince. “I was just about to loosen them up. Don’t worry, I know the rules. I won’t damage their faces or figures. Rest over there while I bring them to heel; then you can enjoy them at your leisure.”

Gray had smoothly cast himself as the prince’s assistant. In his mind, the useless prince knew nothing about interrogation and would have to rely on Gray’s whip and branding iron in the end. If he could lend a hand, he might profit from it and indulge his own cruel appetites besides.

Rhode frowned and waved a hand vigorously in front of his nose, his disgust plain. “You’re too loud.” Without looking at Gray, he made an impatient gesture. “Get out.”

Gray’s smile froze. Veins bulged on the back of the hand holding his hammer.

He gave a strained laugh. “Your Highness, interrogation is a specialist’s work. These three are dangerous, especially the dark-skinned one. She bit a jailer’s ear off yesterday. If they hurt you… Surely it would be best to leave it to a professional like me? Then you’d have something to report to His Majesty.”

“Report? What report?” Rhode glanced sideways at him and lifted his chin, assuming the capital’s most infamous rake’s usual pose. “I have an imperial decree to interrogate them. I’ll do it however I please, whenever I please, and in whatever position I please. Since when is it your place to tell me what to do?”

Gray turned red, then pale. “I only had your safety in mind…”

“You’re in the way. Understand?” Rhode cut him off and pointed toward the door, his tone imperious. “I’m about to have a deep meeting of souls with these three lovely ladies. Having a grown man standing here rather spoils my mood. So I invite you to get out. Right now.”

Gray went livid, veins standing out on his hand, but he didn’t dare argue.

Rhode marveled inwardly. His scumbag predecessor’s position was surprisingly useful. With a reputation that foul and standards that low, he didn’t have to worry about princely dignity or courtly manners. All he had to do was act like the capital’s worst spoiled brute, and an official of Gray’s rank could do nothing about it.

Fighting fire with fire—or a sadist with a thug—worked remarkably well.

“Yes… as you command.” Gray swallowed his anger, glared into the cell and reluctantly withdrew down the corridor with the jailers.

At last it was quiet. Rhode turned and raised his eyebrows triumphantly at Hongye. “Well? Impressed?” His face practically said, *Look how I got rid of that monster without a fight.*

Hongye looked at him without expression. “Aren’t you always like this?”

“Oh…”

He coughed away his embarrassment and approached the thick iron bars. The cell was dim, but at last he could see the three elves chained to the wall. One glance made him draw a sharp breath.

*Now that’s a lineup.*

In the center stood the queen, golden waves spilling over her shoulders. Her purple royal gown was badly torn, its fabric rising and falling with her breath and outlining her full figure. The contrast between her mature dignity and her battered state was striking.

In the corner to the left, a blue-eyed young woman with golden hair crouched in a soaked white dress. Tears streamed down her face, and her shoulders shook: the picture of a frightened innocent.

On the right, a dark-skinned elf with silver hair hung with both hands raised above her. Battle scars marked the exposed skin of her strong, agile body. She stared at Rhode with such fury that he had no doubt she wanted to tear him apart. This had to be the famously hot-tempered general.

The three of them seemed designed to fulfill every fantasy.

As Rhode silently protested the sheer absurdity of the scene, his body reacted more honestly than his mind. Heat rushed through him and his throat went dry. He had to look away before he could regain his composure.

Even he was startled. *No wonder the entire capital called this man a scumbag. His body’s reflexes are hopeless! One look at a beautiful woman and my heart starts racing—and that’s not all. Was there anything in his head besides an obsession with looks?*