Her inner thighs moist with desire for the Skaard warrior, Hyperia lifted her skirts. Remembering the padding over her belly, she turned to face the moldering wall. The stench intensified her arousal. At this moment, she wanted nothing more than defilement, to have Bonn Skaard take her from behind like a beast, to have him shove her face further into the surrounding filth her so she could drink it in like intoxicating perfume.

She hiked up her skirt all the way and tilted her buttocks toward him. "What are you waiting for?" she demanded.

"Just enjoying the view, Milady." The rough texture of his voice added fuel to the fire raging within her.

"Well, you've enjoyed it enough. Now, get on with it."

He grunted, straddling her from behind, his hands pressed against the wall beside her head.

"And what do I get out of this, aside from the pleasure of your company?" he asked.

"Your freedom. Now, take me, you fool!" She arched her back as far as she could to meet his sex, but he would come no closer.

"What are you waiting for?" she snapped.

"My guarantee?"

"A queen's word is the only guarantee you need. I command you to take me, Bonn Skaard! Implant me with your seed, and I guarantee your son will sit on the throne."

She had nothing left to offer. Her sex hung in the air, waiting for his to close the circuit of desire. But still, he didn't move.

No one had ever turned her down. A flare of sudden rage kindled the lustful flame.

"What kind of man are you? Perhaps you prefer your friend Leiffen to a woman?"

"Actually, I'd prefer my goat to you."

The queen whirled. Her nails found his cheek and dug in. The Skaard laughed and backed away. Hyperia lunged at him, fists pounding, her bare breasts swinging. His large hands caught her wrists as she railed, spitting and screaming like a feral beast.

"I'll have you carved into little pieces and thrown to my hogs, you heathen beast!" she shouted, rage mixing with humiliation. She continued the assault with several swift kicks to his battle-scarred shin.

"Aw, but we were getting along so well," Bonn replied with a chuckle.

"Guard!" she shouted, wrenching herself from Bonne's grip and covering herself with her robe.

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The guard ran with clanking steps to the cell door.

"Did he hurt you, Your Grace?" The guard's gauntleted hands tightened into fists. He stared darkly through the bars while Bonn sank back into the shadows.

"No," she said. "Just get me away from this stinking animal."

The key clanged in the lock and the door swung open with a groaning complaint. Hyperia ran to the hall, clutching her robe around her.

A second guard jogged toward them. He stopped when he reached her, bowed his head, and handed her a scroll. "This just came for you, Your Grace," he announced with panting breath.

"Give it here." Hyperia ripped the scroll from the guard's hand.

She ran her fingers, still stinging from her assault on Bonn, along the Illymium seal--a letter from Yewen. Tearing through the wax seal, she opened the scroll and read:

Your sister-in-law's time has come. Return at once.

Hyperia dropped the letter into a flame pot and watched it burn. She turned to one of the guards and said, "Tell the stable master to saddle the fastest horse and have it ready for me at the back gate."

"Yes, Your Grace." The guard hurried off with his sword clanging.

"Going for a midnight ride?" Bonn Skaard smile glowed in the violet moonlight streaming through the cell's small window.

Her composure restored, Hyperia pressed the tops of her breasts against the bars and said, "I will have to forgo the pleasure of seeing you beheaded until I return."

"What a shame."

Her eyes flashed. "It will give me time to concoct a more appropriate execution method."

"I'm intrigued."

"Back in old Mynimium, we had a way of dealing with traitors." Her voice was calm, but her violet eyes shimmered like beams of cold light through the bars. "They were hung up in the square, then each limb would be slowly hacked away with a blunt ax. As the blood poured out of them, their bellies would then be sliced open, and their entrails pulled out and used as a noose to hang them."

"Inventive."

Her lips curled into a smile. "For the truly vile criminals, their cocks would be chopped off and shoved down their throats first."

"Why not keep mine as a souvenir? I'm sure you'll enjoy it in your free time."

"Your horse is ready, Your Grace," informed the out-of-breath guard as he approached.

Hyperia cocked her head toward Bonn's cell and said to the guard, "Chain this prisoner to the wall and give him nothing but water. I want him alive when I return."

"Yes, Your Grace."

She turned and retreated down the dungeon hallway.

"Enjoy your ride," Bonn Skaard called after her.

No smart comeback sprang to her lips, but it didn't matter. She had more important things to deal with. Roselynn's baby was coming, a full month early it looked like.

She ascended the tightly spiraled stone staircase, popped out into the fresh air of the garden, and dropped the torch into a clay pot. Tightening the cloak around her, she made her way to the stables where she had stored a riding habit there along with some provisions in case of such emergencies.

* * *

The Mother and Daughter moons were high and bright, lighting her path as she rode into the night through the Pale Forest and along the high Terrogonian Bluff. The salt-filled sea air blew back the hood of her cloak, and her hair streamed out behind her like a black flag.

She firmly gripped her mount—a tall stallion with a blond mane--between her thighs, pretending it was Bonn Skaard. Her lust flamed as she galloped the horse hard, each thrust of the saddle's pommel bringing her closer to her pleasure's peak. Her heels dug into the horse's ribs; her nails penetrated its flank, drawing hot blood. The horse whinnied in pain, galloping harder along the moonlit bluff.

Hyperia rocked in the saddle as a thing possessed, and when at least she reached her climax, she screamed into the night. The stars of Or spun around her and she knew Illym was with her.

Tonight I will fulfill the prophecy. Tonight my son arrives.