He didn’t flinch, just grinned wider. “Making my point! Okay, let’s get you bound!”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, voice carefully neutral, but I didn’t dare rise from my knees. Kneeling felt oddly disarming, hopefully enough to sidestep any immediate wrath. My knees ached slightly on the rough wooden floor, but that was better than facing whatever passed for Karzi’s mercy today.

  Congrats, Urbeth. You’re officially added to my ‘future annihilation’ list, too.

  Karzi jabbed a thumb towards the bench. “Girly, sit down. No resisting,” she snapped, then swung around, looming over Urbeth like a drunken animal of aggression. “Give her a golden binding. She’s a mage.”

  Urbeth whistled, eyebrows climbing toward his patchy hairline. “A mage, eh? Fancy. Show me.” He made a vaguely mystical gesture with his stubby, dirt-stained fingers.

  I hesitated. Was this another trick? A quick glance at Karzi revealed nothing but impatience. She rolled her eyes dramatically and gave a quick nod. Apparently, performing magic tricks on command was my latest pub trick.

  Fine.

  With a resigned shrug, I reached inside for mana, shaping it carefully into something small, manageable. An icy crystal shimmered into existence above my palm, catching the sparse flicker of the furnace in an oddly beautiful sparkle.

  Urbeth leaned in, eyes glinting greedily in the dim, smoky light.

  Curiosity nudged me to go bigger, just a touch more. But the moment I reached inward again, a hard wall slammed up. Mana refused to flow. I blinked in startled confusion, heart suddenly hammering.

  What the actual hell?

  A heartbeat later, the block dissipated like fog, leaving me free again. Hesitantly, I formed another ice crystal, twice the size, colder, but the instant it manifested, the block proclaimed itself, like some cosmic referee blowing a whistle.

  Great. Fantastic. Just peachy. Apparently, NPCs don’t get to chug mana potions like candy. No, we have cooldowns.

  Real ones. I was thrilled about this delightful new limitation.

  “Ice magic,” Urbeth mused, nodding appreciatively, stroking his uneven beard. His eyes roamed greedily over me, lingering far longer than I liked. “Impressive, impressive. Golden binding for a mage…” He glanced at Karzi, suddenly all business, eyes glittering slyly. “Materials alone will run you twenty thousand. Gold, mind you.”

  Karzi recoiled sharply, eyes narrowing into furious slits. “Twenty thousand? Silver will suffice,” she growled, her voice dropping dangerously low.

  But Urbeth only laughed, a grating, rough sound, like two broken whiskey glasses clashing together.

  He reached out, touching my neck with stiff fingers, examining me as if I were already merchandise rather than a living person. “Nah, wolf-lady. Hard gold’s the only way. Silver can bind her body sure enough, but a mage’s mind... that can still resist. Could be trouble in few weeks.” He drew back, crossing his thick arms over his chest, lips twisted into a smug smile. “Silver binding’ll run about five thousand. Gold.”

  Karzi turned slowly, deliberately toward me, eyes calculating, scanning every inch of me like I was a particularly tricky piece of loot. I forced my face into careful blankness, hiding the sudden nausea roiling in my gut. I was property, valuable goods being appraised.

  Welcome to slavery, Charlie.

  “Silver,” Karzi decided after a tense pause. Her eyes narrowed, cold and calculating. “If binding her body is permanent and mind for a few weeks, then screw it. I don’t need more. Whoever buys her next can pay for upgrades themselves.” She finished with a triumphant howl, the sound echoing through the cramped room.

  Of course, she howled. Couldn’t resist, could she?

  Karzi spun on her heel, heading for the door, but Urbeth lunged and snagged her pants-leg. She froze, glaring down at him like a wolf staring at a particularly irritating deer.

  “Hold on,” he grumbled, his voice full of annoyance. His rough fingers tightened on the fabric of her trousers. “Next time, keep the newcomers quiet. I don’t care about the locals’ delicate sensibilities, but your slaves screaming and your pack growling ruin my pub visits. And I value my drinking time.” His gaze hardened, voice lowered dangerously. “Be a proper alpha and keep your wolves under control.”

  She snarled fiercely, her teeth bared, looming above him with barely restrained violence. Urbeth met her stare without flinching, his jaw set stubbornly. For a moment, the tension crackled between them.

  Finally, Karzi growled low in grudging agreement. “Fine. Not usually how we do things, dwarf, but... fair enough. Terrible business to upset the locals too much.” With a final, annoyed snort, she shook his grip free, twisted, and stomped out, the door banging shut behind her.

  Then silence. Urbeth turned slowly, his gaze falling heavily onto me, appraising and sharp. I tried to keep my expression neutral, though inside my mind was racing through possibilities.

  I had a few options here.

  Option one: Plead my case to Urbeth. Maybe appeal to whatever shred of morality lurked beneath his greed. Unlikely. Karzi’s coin probably outweighed any pang of conscience he might have.

  Option two: Make a run for it. Urbeth didn’t exactly look like a marathon champion, but Rimelion was notoriously deceptive. Stats mattered here, not appearances, and for all I knew, Urbeth could sprint like a cheetah on caffeine.

  Option three: Accept this damn silver binding. Play obedient, keep my head down, and wait for rescue or a better chance. Lucy, Lola, the others; if they were ever going to find me, it would be in Altandai. And frankly, going solo hasn’t exactly worked wonders for me recently. Lucy showed me the value of asking for help.

  I sighed inwardly, shoulders slumping imperceptibly. Option three it is. Yay, slavery.

  Urbeth stumbled over to a large, cluttered storage closet, dragging open its creaking wooden door and fishing out a box heavy enough to make him grunt in an effort. He set it down with a thud, sending a small cloud of dust billowing upward. “So, little mage,” he grinned, revealing his stained, uneven teeth in the dim candlelight. “Are you planning to beg me for freedom, or are you smart enough to spare us both that embarrassment?”

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  I forced a faint, resigned smile. “She’s paying you far more than I could ever offer,” I replied quietly, my voice carefully neutral. My treasure inside the Twir treasury would earn me freedom. If they believed it and let me retrieve it. Which they would not; they would just order me. “And I already know my fate.”

  “Good girl,” he said approvingly, setting long, slender strips of gleaming silver metal onto the battered wooden table. They caught the dull firelight, shimmering faintly like living things. “So no resistance, then?”

  I let out a small snort, cautious enough not to offend. “If I resist, she’ll just toss me to her pets as a snack.”

  Urbeth chuckled bitterly, shaking his head. “Wish more slaves had your sense. Would make my job easier.”

  Wait, option four.

  “Or you could use less effective metal. Because I’m a princess,” I mumbled under my breath, half-seriously. Unfortunately, dwarf-ears seemed sharper than wolf-ears. That last word landed hard. His eyes widened, because it was the pressure every title gives.

  He knew it was true, and it was my only card to play here. “If I do it… I’m dead,” he whispered.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m willing to do it, but… Use less effective metal. Let me break free at some point, and I will tell my kingdom not to hunt you till the end of time.”

  “I can tell her,” he said. “She’ll sell you to your kingdom without all this slavery.”

  I shook my head. “No. Do it. And I promise on my royal honor to spare your life, despite knowing what you do, unlike a certain wolf.”

  He hesitated, but then nodded. “Very well. Prepare yourself.”

  My throat tightened, heart rate spiking sharply as I eyed the instrument. Urbeth caught my expression and chuckled darkly. “Relax. It’ll hurt like hell, but only briefly. I’ll explain the process so your little royal mind can follow. Pay attention, yeah?”

  “Yes, sir,” I responded flatly, eyes glued to the tools as he prepared them.

  He nodded with approval, then carefully lifted one thin, snake-like strip of silver using the wicked-looking tweezers. “Once I place this binding coil onto your neck, it’ll pierce through your skin and burrow into your mana channels.”

  My breath hitched involuntarily, even though I already knew the details. “Normally, it’ll draw power directly from your mana to sustain itself, so never, ever try to drain or disable it. It carries a small reserve; it can keep functioning briefly without your mana. Normally. I’ll just disable that function, but don’t tell Karzi, understood, princess?”

  “Yes, sir,” I echoed numbly, desperately ignoring the writhing mental image of the coil sliding beneath my skin. So far, no pain.

  Satisfied, Urbeth reached for a long, polished gray-stone, not yellow as he promised Karzi, worn smooth from repeated use. He wrapped one end of the silver coil around it tightly. “This binds your mana signature directly to the central Altandai binding stone. Now repeat after me, clearly: ‘This will bind me to the Altandai binding stone.’”

  I swallowed hard, my voice cracking slightly despite my best efforts. “This… will bind me to the Altandai binding stone.”

  Urbeth’s grin widened, filled with amusement at my obvious fear. “Usually, this is where I have to tie my patients down,” he snickered, tapping the tweezers thoughtfully against his palm. “You’re a princess though. Can you handle it?”

  Patients. Sure, doctor. Well, here’s a diagnosis for you: a terminal condition of being marked for death. You just don’t know it yet.

  He finished securing the coil with a whispered incantation; his voice was low. I braced myself for the searing agony, but instead felt a nauseating crawl, like tiny metallic insects skittering slowly beneath my skin.

  Not pain, exactly. Not yet.

  “Now, princess,” Urbeth said calmly, “comes the harder part. Since you’re a mage, I’ll indulge your curiosity; it’s old magic we’re using here. Ancient oaths, ancient bindings. It does most of the heavy lifting. I’m just providing the mana, see? Any drunkard with a drop of mana could manage it. You just repeat after me, exactly, word-for-word.”

  I nodded numbly, stomach twisting into anxious knots, as he placed several thin plates around my neck, forming something resembling makeshift armor. The cold metal bit into my skin, sending shivers of dread trickling down my spine.

  His voice took on a grave, ceremonial weight as he began, and I echoed each word, feeling the oath settle heavily into my chest.

  “My body and soul belong to my master, Dame Karzi. I will never harm my master, nor allow them to come to harm through my inaction. I will never defy their commands or seek loopholes in their intent.”

  The chains tightened invisibly. “I surrender all secrets of my heart and mind; they are my master’s knowing. I will speak no lies and hide no truths from my master.” The creeping metallic sensation intensified, sliding along my veins, coiling tighter with every phrase.

  “I forsake all past loyalties and bonds, serving only my master’s wishes from this moment onward. Should I break this oath, may my spirit shatter, my magic wither, and darkness consume me.”

  The instant the final syllable left my lips, agony exploded through my body.

  It struck like lightning.

  The silver plates liquefied instantly, molten metal slithering into my skin, joining the coil inside my body as it spread and tightened, its tendrils weaving ruthlessly through my mana channels.

  I gasped, limbs locking in rigid torment, as I felt my mana constrict sharply, forced along unnatural pathways, squeezed and twisted violently out of shape. My vision exploded in bursts of white and crimson, darkness closing swiftly around the edges.

  A wave of overwhelming pain stole my consciousness.

  When I awoke, whether seconds or hours later, the agony was still there, relentlessly clawing at my nerves. I wanted to scream, to cry out, to vent something, anything, but no sound emerged. The pain held me captive, paralyzed, leaving me frozen, helplessly enduring it.

  “Who is your master?” Urbeth asked, his voice quiet.

  I opened my mouth and felt the urge to say something stupid about Karzi. But I clamped down with all my will and said… “Myself.”

  Urbeth rolled his eyes. “As impressive is you are resisting it, princess, never seen it, this will land both of us in danger. Again. Who is your master?”

  I wanted again to defend against that feeling, but I stopped resisting. Instead, words I did not choose tumbled obediently from my lips. “My master is Dame Karzi.”

  “Good, it worked,” Urbeth said, satisfaction glowing in his eyes, his yellow teeth glinting in a smug grin. “You earned me good coin, princess. Please, think about me when you are a queen, will you?”

  I just nodded. Before I find something else to say, Dame Karzi stormed into the room, her boots thundering against the warped wooden floor. She dragged behind her one of the fools who’d dared disobey her, handling him effortlessly like a hunter hauling her latest kill.

  No, bad Charlie, she is a bad person. Master, but temporarily.

  With a scornful toss, she flung the groaning elf at Urbeth’s feet, his body landing with a dull, defeated thud. “Done already?” Karzi growled, cocking an eyebrow, her wolfish grin magnificent and predatory.

  “She was obedient,” Urbeth responded cheerfully, already reaching for another binding, indifferent to the broken heap of a man at his feet.

  Karzi turned her piercing gaze toward me, eyes alight with ruthless satisfaction. “Good job, girly,” she hummed, voice thick with mock approval.

  The praise slammed into my chest, sending warmth and pride flooding through me as powerfully as a shot of fine whiskey hitting an empty stomach. I felt I could resist, just to defy her wolfish, stupid grin.

  I did not.

  My lips stretched into a blissful grin, one that would’ve made Patrick’s generous pours seem like water, and my rational mind cringed at the forced delight.

  “Now shoo,” she barked lightly, waving me away with a dismissive flick of her gauntlet-clad hand. “Wait outside the house.” She punctuated her command with a triumphant, ear-splitting howl that echoed painfully against the stone walls.

  My heart leaped with an urgency that wasn’t mine, but one forced upon me. Without hesitation, I nearly tripped over myself to comply, calling back enthusiastically, “Yes, Dame Karzi!”

  I practically sprinted outside, driven by a stupid compulsion. It would be unthinkable, disgraceful even, not to obey.