Borla suddenly turned and said sharply to one of the Captains of the
Palace Guard, "Give me a sword."
The requested item was promptly produced by a guard, and handed over to Baschal, who promptly took it and handed it over in turn to the Chief Advisor to the Emperor.
"Now," said Borla testily, with no small degree of impatience. "For the last time; what is thy name, girl?"
Si'Wren stood immobile as she regarded the edge of the gleaming sword which Borla held up just beneath her chin at the throat, and slowly shook her head.
"Very well," said Borla, as he withdrew the sword and held it up for the death stroke. "His Majesty can be quite reasonable at times. You've obviously chosen to die for your insolence, and it is His pleasure to grant you your wish…"
"Withhold thy hand," said Emperor Euphrates suddenly.
Borla hesitated, his arm tensed for the downswing, and regarded his
Emperor in a look of self-evident deference.
"As you wish, Highness," said Borla, as he bowed low and handed the sword back to the underling again. "What is thy pleasure, Sire? Name it, and I shall not hesitate…"
"Bring her to me," said Emperor Euphrates.
The Emperor's words echoed throughout the absolute, dead silence of the throne room as a thousand spectators looked on in shocked horror, and Si'Wren gasped involuntarily as Borla's heavy hand dropped firmly onto her slender shoulder, filling her pounding heart with sudden dread.