First, she strips her prize.

"You know what I love most about the hunt, little prince?" Queen Irena loomed over the foot of Marcus' bed, lips curled into a wicked grin. "The ending. When the prey is quivering at my feet, helpless and terrified. I can do anything with him that I please. Kind of like now, don't you think?"

"Please, let me go!" The young prince sobbed hoarsely. He'd finally realized the queen somehow wasn't a friend anymore and that made him so frightened he'd burst into floods of tears. His little covering of blankets didn't feel very safe any more with her standing right there looking like a hungry lioness.

"No, I don't think so" Irena purred. She reached down to her belt and drew a wicked little dagger with a curved blade. Marcus froze at the sight of gleaming steel. "Let's get you bare for me, little prince, so I can see just what kind of prize I've won." The queen lent forward slightly and the young prince screamed into his covers. He wriggled frantically backward, trying to burrow into his bed and escape. "Ah, there's a little fight in this rabbit after all. Or is that flight?" Irena chuckled with cruel amusement. Her hand darted in like a striking snake and seized him by the ankle.

"No!" Marcus shrieked, caught like a rabbit in a snare. He was yanked back, his weak little fingers scrabbling for something, anything to grab on to. Irena gave him one more hard tug of the leg and he tumbled off the edge of the bed, landing in a heap at the huntress' feet. Her one hand slammed into his back, pinning him to the floor before he could even squeal. The other held the dagger and he froze in panic when he felt the cold steel brush over the nape of his neck.

"Don't move, little bunny." Irena cooed, in a sing-song voice. "I'm going to cut this cute shift right off your body and I wouldn't want to miss." Marcus lay there, too terrified to even twitch. She grabbed his shift in one hand, pulling the silk tight in her grip. Then the dagger darted in and she sliced it clean down the middle with a single sawing cut. The young prince felt his pretty shift get pulled open, ripped to shreds by the cruel hands of the huntress. He buried his face in the floor, feeling cold air on the naked skin of his back. All he could do was lie here and cry as she destroyed one of his prettiest outfits, for no reason at all.

Soon he was lying on the tattered remains of his shift, totally naked and trembling like a leaf. Irena was crouching next to him. She'd sheathed that awful dagger at last, but the hungry way she was gazing at his bare body didn't make that much of a comfort.

"Please." He whispered, his voice as weak and broken as he felt. "Don't hurt me."