Duke Swain Viler sat in the red plush seat in his family’s underground dungeon. He was sad. He had been feeling some type of way regarding his new wife.

“M’ lord” the chained man spoke, blood flowing out of his mouth. The man’s face was battered barely comprehensible. The man was one of the General’s usual ‘deliveries’. A spy that was caught in the Imperial palace and was duly sent to the Northern Gates where they’d be interrogated to death. The man was just a number to add to the list.

“Have mercy” the man huffed out. He started crying, “I have told you all that I know”

The guard stepped forward to wring the remaining life out of the man but Swain stopped him. He was feeling very odd.

“I have a question for you”

“Anything m’lord, please have mercy”

“My wife, she’s a beautiful and intelligent woman but I think she fears me.”

“What?”

“She’s been skittish around the castle, avoiding me during meals, turning away or sleeping immediately after sex or the other day she just gave me this fake smile when I was clearly telling her that I could fly. Do you see what I’m saying?”

“M’lord?” the man was dehydrated and hungry, comprehension was a miracle.

“Ah. I guess not.” Swain sighed and pointed at the sword. The guard picked up the sword from the table full of torture tools and walked towards the spy.

“Wait m’lord!” the man pleaded, “Maybe you’ve done something to scare her.” Miracles are for everyone.

“What could have I done?” Swain sighed. He was trying to be the perfect husband. He even toned down his blood lust during their wedding ceremony. The priest was taking a long time and he was an impatient man with some things.

“Women don’t like swords at the table!” the man spoke.

“Really?” Swain leaned in, ready to take in whatever wisdom the dying man had left in him.

“It gives them indigestion.” The dead spy added.

“Fascinating.” He looked up at the spectating guards “Well is anyone writing this down?” he ordered.

The guards began to scramble for ink and paper.

The dying man that was once a spy but was discovered in court, continued.

“You got’ta be open with her m’lord”

“Open?”

“Yes m’lord. Tell her things about yourself…”

“I’m trying that.”

“Yer secrets m‘lord”

“Secrets?” Swain was utterly shocked. Was anyone humanely capable of understanding him?

“Women want to know everything about men, the bad and the good.”

“What if she doesn’t like the bad?”

“You’ll have ta test that out”

“Test it out” Swain repeated “How do I know if she’ll like the bad?”

“She’ll give you a big’ol hug and some time under the sheets, m’lord.”

“What test can I give her?”

“Maybe wear another woman’s perfume to the bedroom?”

“Too shallow”

Swain leaned back on the red plush seat with a sigh. He stared at the man, the guards and suddenly the idea came to him. With enough joy to set the grassy plains of the south of Verradus on fire, he stood up, grabbed the sword from the guard and stabbed the now dead spy in the lungs. The blood splattered all over him as he pulled the sword out in a flourish. It was such a gore-filled scene that one of the guards vomited on the floor.

“The vomit adds to the scent” he said and walked to the top of the castle searching for his dearest wife.

There she was, like a scene set in a painting, seated in the drawing room, an angry yet beautiful expression. It always made him smile, just seeing her. He never understood why but he would smile and wonder where she’d cower to next. It excited him, her fear and her bravery both in and out of bed. His reverie was cut short by the presence of an unknown guest. He was annoyed by that. But then, it changed when Colette, walked ever so beautifully towards him and with worry and concern written on her face and then she hugged him. He felt it in that moment. His heart beat just once at that wonderful feeling of, he thought of the word. What was it? Ah yes. Acceptance. Moreover, they made love in the afternoon. A fruitful day, he smiled to himself in the office.

“Is he okay?” Rowan asked Hank as they sat in his office. Hank remained silent. Fortunately for the soul of the dead spy named Fin, his plan worked and the General Swain Viler missed him so.