Malek...

The guards bring you to the big room the party was being held in. Now it is empty, except for Malek still lounging in his throne. The guards drag you before Malek and thrust you to the floor in front of him.

Looking up at him, you notice more of him than you did the first time. His face is young and slender. His eyes, a deep green, his messy hair sandy blond. He stands and his roman style white drapes move to the side to reveal more of his muscle chest. It struck you suddenly, that he had to be young. Perhaps 19, perhaps 25, but young all the same.

"Terribly sorry about the wait but I find pets like you only ripen with time, like a good wine," he says motioning with a wine glass he holds in one hand. Malek comes closer and looks at your face. With his other hand, he runs over the bruise the guard had given you. Malek frowns. "What's this?" He asks.

The guard that hit began to speak but Malek cuts him off. "I was asking the Assassin," he said.

"The guard struck me," you say. Malek sighs.

"First, when you must speak to me, you will address me as my king, or my master. Secondly, why would my guard strike you?"

You lie. "After they threw me in the cell, he shoved me ground and tried to **** me. I resisted and he did this," you say added a quick, "my king." The words sound awful coming from your mouth.

Malek raises an eyebrow and looks at the guards.

"Well?" He asks.

"A bloody lie, my king. She grabbed a cell bar as we were pulling her down the hall. I hit her to make her let go, my king." The guard answers. The other guard backs up his story.

"Well, were off to a bad start Assassin. It seems you lie to me. I shall have to decided your punishment." Malek said wistfully.