One man's trash

The way his eyes nearly glittered as she stood up to him. The way he told her he loved her, she really believed it. He loved her and had put her on a pedestal that she could never fall from. She licked and pulled her bottom lip in before shakily sighing. This was his best. He believed in a nobility that had higher worth than the servants below him. He was the warlord, not a king. But he was a warlord without a king…. This was just the way it was to him.

Her rapid mind was desperate to stay out of the fog, she couldn’t see how to get around this as her golden eyes darted between his blues. It would just be so easy to put it down, but he had brought her this slave. He brought this before. Told her to get used to this. As a last ditch effort she shook her head and stepped back from him.

“I won’t raise them as my own.” She will.
“I’ll release the slaves from the pack!” She won’t.
“I’ll…” another step back, a wild desperate look in her eyes, “I’ll run to the Hallows and tell -“ -too far!!