Lyra needs him to read for her, but she doesn't like what she hears

"Here, boy." Lyra pointed just beside her chair. Marcus shuffled over, his heart in his mouth. He didn't want to be any closer to this scary woman, but she wasn't giving him much of a choice. His heart pounding, he stepped up to the side of her chair, his hands awkwardly covering his exposed dick. Her one good eye flickered to him and she gave him a cold glare. The young prince stared anxiously back. Since she'd broken into his bedroom that first night, this was the closest he'd ever been to her. With the burn and how scary she was, he hadn't realized she was actually quite young. Maybe only a few years older than him, but somehow she'd led an army of peasants and overthrown a kingdom. That just made her even scarier as far as he was concerned, and he knew he couldn't make her angry with him now. No matter how hard he tried though, he couldn't stop his gaze drifting back over her scarred side. The burn must have been just awful, scarred, leathery skin tracing all the way down her forehead over her cheek and neck and then continuing under her tunic. All on the same side as her bad leg too. He swallowed anxiously, feeling a flicker of sympathy despite how terrified he was of her. "Stop gawping at me, and look here." She snapped, tapping the paper on the desk in front of her.

"Sorry!" Marcus whimpered, tearing his gaze from her face. He knew how rude it was to stare like that! No wonder she was mad at him.

"I'm trying to sort through your Father's papers, figure out all the problems he caused for this country." She grunted, glaring down at the parchment. "Only I never learnt to read that well and fuck if it isn't taking way too long. That's where you come in. Tell me what it says here." She tapped a sentence near the top of the page. Marcus lent over, staring at his Father's messy handwriting scrawled across the page. He scanned the date. This had been written just a few weeks ago.

"By royal authority, poaching of animals in the crown estates will now be punishable by **** by hanging." Marcus read, his heart sinking with every word. Sure enough, Lyra stiffened up in her chair, her lips curling into an angry scowl.

"Fucking bastard. Executing men whose only crime was to try and feed their families." She snapped. "Continue. Does our so-called King explain why he made this decision?"

"The crown estates are for the use of the King and his entourage alone, to ensure a plentiful supply of game in future and secure the Kingdom's food supply in times of crisis to come." The young prince continued, a little shocked at his Father's callousness. Sure, the King had always enjoyed hunting and even tried to share his passion unsuccessfully with his son a few times, but why stop everyone else getting food for their families? "According to reports from our magistrates, the peasantry has more than enough food already from their share of farming yields." The young prince continued. "They must be heavily discouraged from wanton plundering of Crown property for no reason other than greed."

"So, not only a terrible king but an ignorant one as well." Lyra snarled, slamming her fist into the table. "Enough food? Greed? Half the country was starving under his fucking reign!" She swept the parchment aside. "If he'd gone anywhere other than brothels and all his fucking hunting trips he'd have seen that!" Marcus shrank back, terrified of her anger. "Get back here you little shit, we're not done!" She snapped. Heart in his mouth, he shuffled back to her side, praying she wouldn't hit him or anything. He felt so ****, next to this furious and scary woman, his bare body shivering as he tried to cover himself and read at the same time. "Next page, tell me what it says here!" She pointed at another piece of parchment, the royal seal in red wax stamped at the bottom. Marcus swallowed anxiously and started reading aloud, praying that this letter at least wouldn't make his family sound quite as bad.

It was a report from the treasurer describing the falling tax revenues from the outlying parts of the Kingdom, stating that the local lords were trying their hardest to ensure the money reached the crown but their peasants were being lax in their duties. His Father's reply was scrawled underneath, directing more funds to be diverted to bailiffs and tax collectors to ensure everyone paid what they should owe to the Kingdom's defense. Lyra's good eye flashed with rage as he read that part, but she didn't say anything, just tossing the parchment aside and sweeping another one in place for him.

Marcus stood there beside her reading aloud for her for what like a good half hour or so. Whatever chores she'd meant for him to do stayed forgotten as she listened attentively to every word he told her no matter how angry they made her. As the pages went on and on, the young prince found himself noticing a rather worrying pattern. So many of these letters to his Father kept saying how well everything was going in the Kingdom, how the peasants were happy and well-fed, and the borders secure. Just the opposite of how Lyra described it. The young prince couldn't help but remember that horrible mob of dirty peasants she'd pulled him out in front of the night she'd captured the castle, screaming for his **** and the overthrow of his family. Those didn't seem like people who'd been well-looked after by their King.

"Enough." She said at last, setting the final page aside. "I think I get the picture." Her lips curled into a little frown. "Not entirely what I was expecting to be honest. It almost seems like your Father didn't even know what a fucking mess he was making of his own country. Not sure I can really believe that." Marcus glanced down at the floor, rather confused himself. Surely she could just ask the King about this wherever he was imprisoned, right? "It doesn't matter anyway. All this suffering is still on his fucking head, and the head of every noble who squeezed this country dry. He didn't once think to stop wasting the Kingdom's money on feasts or hunting trips, did he?"

"No" Marcus whispered, unsure if she wanted him to answer or not. Lyra glanced at him, her good eye tracing down his bare body towards his trembling thighs. The young prince shivered at the cool stare, feeling even more naked. His stomach twisted nervously, and he couldn't help but think of his parents' bed just meters away from where they now stood. Was she going to drag him there and **** him?

"Here's something else I bet you didn't know about your Father, boy." She smiled thinly, baring teeth. Her good eye glinted as her gaze drifted back up over his bare chest. "Our so-called King liked whores, rather a lot in fact. He was a regular at the brothel in town, in disguise of course, and he had his favorite girls there. Guess having the most beautiful woman in the Kingdom as his Queen wasn't enough to satisfy him, or maybe your Mother just wasn't putting out." Marcus clenched his jaw, a flicker of hot anger burning in his chest at her mocking sneers. She was lying, obviously. More hateful lies about his family, said just to hurt him. There was no way his Father would cheat on his Mother, least of all with prostitutes! He raised his head and glared at her, courage for once overwhelming his fear of her. She just smirked back, that cold, confident stare making his heart waver. Did she really believe what she'd just said? "Now get back to work, you little shit!" She snapped suddenly, waving a hand at the messy study. "I've got a Kingdom to fix, so I'm leaving you here to finish this, do something useful with yourself for once. I'll lock you in, so don't bother trying to escape. Work hard and make sure I'm satisfied or you're never going to pay off your debt to the people."

With that, she rose from her chair, looming over the naked young prince. Marcus yelped with shock and stumbled back, his moment of bravery vanishing like a gutted candle. He was way too scared to stand up to her now. She gave him another mocking sneer, than turned and strode for the entrance, leaving him standing there naked in the middle of the messy study. As she stepped through the door and slammed it shut behind her, the young prince glanced miserably over the ransacked study, still with only his hands to clean it with.

As he shuffled back over to the pile of discarded books, his heart was still aching with confusion over what he'd read and heard. With reminders of his parents all around him he felt a stinging pang of worry for the King and Queen. He wished he could run to them now, hug his Mother and have his Father tell him everything was okay. Would he ever even get to see them again? Or would horrible Lyra just lock them away forever? Maybe he should ask Jack to sneak him into the dungeons next time he saw his lover. The handsome older man would want to help him, right?