One man's trash

His eyes levelled on Ignita as he returned with a few basic supplies. She didn't know it yet, but this was the consequence of her actions. He wouldn't let her shy from the thought. She had to know exactly what it meant to push him on this matter. “After our wedding, my grandfather pulled me aside and told me a truth he had intended to take to the grave.” His eyes flicked to the slave for a moment. He understood that the previous Warlord did not want this to get out, and why. “You will keep the things we say to yourself, or you'll find your last master's final actions were a kindness.” He addressed her directly with the warning, before his eyes found Ignita again.


A hint of anger bled through his words. Seeing her almost die to bring their children to this world had truly shaken him. “He told me that before my grandmother sacrificed herself, she was dying. That her body was failing, as a consequence of baring litters of oversized children. You are not expendable, Ignita. If you push me on this matter, I will give you children. Just not the way you want them.”