She lounged across the divan, long and
sensuous. Her eyelids drooped lazily as
the incense burned away any cares. A
servant came in and informed her that her assassin was at her disposal. “Wonderful,” she purred, “send him in.”
Morgan walked in unhesitently. Few crossed her threshold with such
self-assurance. He stopped five feet
from her chaise and seemed to be observing her, even though his eyes were unnaturally
still. “Come closer,” she said.
He obeyed her word, but not her intent, stopping
two feet short. His expression changed
to mild amusement. He knew what she
wanted. “What you desire,” he stated
plainly, “is not my intention to give.”
She pouted teasingly. “I'm bored,” she remarked, “as always. There must be something else to do here, but
mostly there's not.”
“Ah, boredom is something I can ease. I just prefer a different means to that
end. Perhaps, a change of scenery would
alleviate your boredom?”
“Take me away from here? Do so!
They say the chambers are warded against portation magic.”
“Your rooms, yes.
Come to my cabinet and we can step away unimpeded.”
“They're really that dense, eh?”
Morgan smirked.
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