I crouched down, then spoke low enough so only he could hear me. “You raped the High Priestess. Did you think the Fates wouldn’t punish you for that? That I wouldn’t punish you for that? The Reaper has come for you this day, Ollmund.”

A choked sob escaped him as I rose and returned my attention to the rest of them. “For that, he will be killed. His family will be stripped of their titles and impoverished. The crown claims all their coin and lands until a suitable replacement is found.”

That caused a stir among the crowd. It was well known that House Varrir held strong ties to House Vrak since my ascension. To see them stripped to beggars now? That was the shock, the unpredictability, the instability among them I needed to shove my agenda through.

I held up a hand, silencing them again. “The time has come for each one of you to swear fealty to me again, to confirm you understand the consequences for defying my holy orders and my holy throne.”

I drew a dagger from my waist, leaving my sword where it was. For now. “But first, I have justice to execute.”

Ollmund scrambled backward as I stalked toward him. Somehow, he managed to stumble to his feet. I herded him toward the double doors, which the Kral’s Guard swung open. A gust of winter air chilled the room nearly as much as my actions.

He raced into the dark, attempting to flee, but the soldiers caught him by the arms and dragged him to his knees. “Ollmund!” his wife shouted, falling over the threshold.

I paused, pivoting to the gathered nobility. “I suggest you gather around the windows to witness what happens when a member of House Vrak is attacked.”

None of them hesitated to press forward, all probably planning how they’d snatch the richest house’s title and lands for themselves.

“Father!” Orith cried, clutching her mother for comfort.

“Light the pyre,” I ordered one of the males. He took a torch to the base of it, and smoke soon filtered through the night. When the fire caught, it cast the scene in a haunting glow.

Ollmund struggled against the hold as I approached. “I did no such thing! I would never harm you, Xannirin.” His voice carried through the night, likely in a last effort to reach his peers. His final political play to highlight me as their adversary instead of their ruler.

I leaned down and hissed in his ear, “We both know it wasn’t me. Speak what you did aloud, and I will not burn you. You’ll spend all eternity trapped in this world, yearning for the next life you’ll never have. It is honestly what I should do, but unfortunately I have to cater to the other sycophants in there. It wouldn’t help me to let you rot, as much as I want to.”

“I am calling on my second term,” he wheezed. “You will not kill me.”

Red coated my vision. How dare he attempt to stop me from showing Kiira that she deserved justice? My palms tingled with the memory of our blood oath.

“No,” I growled. “You forfeit that term when you raped Kiira.”

The vehemence in my tone made him whimper.

“On his feet,” I commanded, stepping back. My guard hauled him upright. “Strip him.”

Another raced forward, using a knife to shred his fine clothes from his body. Screams and pleas of mercy tore from his wife and daughter, but I paid them no attention as I turned to the nobility.

“Witness my wrath. Imprint it on your memory so that you may never attempt to rise against me.”

With that, I dug the blade into Ollmund’s skin, dragging it in one forty-five degree line, then another, until a large X covered his portly torso. Had I taken inspiration from Rokath? Absolutely. If it worked for him, it would work for me.

“Bring the whip,” I ordered, palm up and waiting. A guard settled it in my hand a moment later. With predatory slowness, I rounded to his naked backside. I stared every head of house down, slow and unblinking.

Muscles tense, Ollmund attempted to smother his sobs. I raised the nine tails studded with metal, the air hissing past my ear.

And then, I struck with all my might.

He screamed, pitching forward. If it weren’t for my guard holding him, he would have collapsed to the ground. I didn’t hesitate to deliver another blow, then one after that. Blood welled as I tore up his backside, but satisfaction was still out of reach.

Many females turned away as a garnet puddle formed around us. Yet the males, with hard set jaws, watched on, knowing they’d be judged for it. The firelight reflected their rage back to me. Their defiance. Their malicious intent. Mixed among the fearful were a few brave souls who would receive personal visits from me over the coming days.

Ribs emerged from the flayed meat of Ollmund’s back. The heat from the pyre rose to a new height, searing into my skin. The crackling accompanied my ominous steps as I drew my dagger and rounded the pathetic male.

Tears and snot streamed down his face, and his head hung limply. I gave him a few slaps to stir him. “You are no male, and for that, you will have your cock and balls removed before I throw you onto the logs. Pray to the Weaver now to bring you back as a female so you aren’t shamed with your utter lack.”

Eyes wide, he started to plead with me again, but I reached down and yanked what the Weaver had not blessed him with in this life. A scream ripped from him, and I wasted no time in slicing both away. Blood spurted from the wound, but I kept hold of the offending organs, intending to use them as proof to my cousins that I was committed to our changes.

What would Kiira think when she received them? Would she realize then the lengths I would go to for her? Would she see me as her protector as she saw Rokath?

That was all I wanted from her now. For her to remember the way we’d laugh late into the night. The softness of her voice, the way she’d prop her feet on my lap while we drank decadent wine. How she’d lean into me as I settled her in my bed to sleep it off.

I wanted to return to the before of her resentment. Before she turned to Rokath for confirmation instead of me. Before she clung to Rapp, let him make her smile and chase away her pain.

She should have looked at me like that.

Damn the consequences the Fates would invoke for disallowing Ollmund to call upon his second favor. This was far more important.

“Burn him,” I commanded my guard.

They dragged his now-limp body away, leaving the pool of his life behind. Without much care, they tossed him onto the pyre. His wife and daughter screamed again, lost to their hysteria. Orith sprinted past me, falling to her knees just out of range of the blaze.

His wife collapsed, and no one moved to help her, which pleased me greatly.

“Find me a box for these,” I told one of the soldiers, lifting Ollmund’s dick and balls. “And a wet towel.”

“Yes, My Kral,” he said, then hurried away. At the entrance to the ballroom, I kicked off my boots, not wanting to stain my floors with the offender’s blood. By the time I reached my throne, servants appeared, boxing up the organs and cleaning me off. Once they finished, I lounged on my throne again.

“Who wants to go first?” I asked casually, like I hadn’t just slaughtered one of their own and forced them to watch.

Several heads of houses hurried forward, dropping to one knee and resting their foreheads on their arms.

Exactly where they should be.

“Repeat after me,” I ordered, pulling a slip of parchment from my pocket. I’d formed the oath carefully to ensure their loyalty was to me, rather than our house as a whole.

“I, the devoted head of my noble house, bow to the burgundy banner of House Vrak.”

A handful of masculine voices echoed my words, slightly muffled by their positions.

“Before the sacred gazes of the Weaver, the Giver, and the Reaper, I kneel in unwavering fealty to the sovereign ruler of the Demon Realm. I sacrifice my blood to bind my magic, my body, my fate to the Kral.”