"Don’t make me sound so harsh, my princess," Uzek said. "Especially not towards you. Why speak as though you alone suffer? We need to save ourselves, too; we also deserve to live, don’t you think? Are we not human as well?"
"Of course, you do deserve to live. But how then, do you prove that you’re human?" Sira replied coldly, "Is it by invading and threatening others, just as you do?"
Uzek gave a short laugh. "That is what people say of us, yes. That is what we have been known for. But no, that is not all we are, and not all we will be. Listen, let us come to a simple agreement. Before I even send word to your king, you and I should agree first. You, personally, will allow us to enter your kingdom. And if you do this, there will be no need for fighting."
Sira shook her head. "There are some things even a princess cannot do, and some decisions she cannot make. This is one of them. Even if I want to agree to this, it is beyond me."
"Perhaps not directly," Uzek said with a sly smile. "But indirectly, ah, that is different. Listen well. If the princess of Ivarion chooses me, if she says she is in love and weds me in secret, then my people will be welcomed into your kingdom. They may not like it at first, but they will bow to it in time. After all, who dares refuse their princess when she gives her heart?"
Sira’s face hardened, but she stayed quiet.
"This is not something to think about for long," Uzek continued. "It is as simple as it sounds. Agree to it, and both our people are saved. What greater mutual interest could there be?"
Sira exhaled slowly. "If I must be honest... it sounds possible. And it does not bring harm directly. So, as much as I dislike it, I have little choice. I can say that I agree. But know this, never in my life did I believe I would marry a man I did not love. Never in my wildest dreams."
Uzek grinned. "Love, you say? Then that is the problem. You should have spoken sooner. You see, my princess, I am very skilled in this matter. I can make you fall in love with me in a matter of hours." He leaned closer. "All you must do is allow yourself to be free."
"You mean," Sira said, "allow myself to be vulnerable?"
"Definitely not," Uzek replied smoothly. "I mean simply allow me a little time. Give me a chance, and before long... You will fall for me."
Sira gave a small smile, hiding the fact that she wasn’t at ease. "Hmm... well. It shouldn’t be such a bad thing," she said softly.
Uzek smiled, stood up, and walked slowly around the table. His eyes never left hers. He stopped beside her and placed his hand over hers. "Do you feel that, my princess? This hand of mine?" His fingers slid up her arm, brushing her shoulders, her collarbone, then her cheek. "It trembles only because of you."
He pushed his face closer and closer until their lips met and they kissed. Sira endured it, her body was stiff at first, then slowly, it began moving with his.
The kiss grew stronger. Uzek pulled her up to her feet and pressed her against the table, then against the wall. Each move was rougher than the one before. They moved clumsily around the room, their lips never parting, bumping into the furniture and walls with heavy thuds.
They continued their kiss, and then Sira pushed Uzek to a wall, pinned him there with her hands, and was still kissing him. Now she was beginning to touch him all over the body, and she was touching him from his chest, to the stomach, to the waist, and then at the side of his waist. And there, she felt it. A dagger.
Her eyes flickered. She moved to draw it out, but Uzek’s hand moved faster. He held her arm, twisted her wrist painfully, and put the sword to Sira’s neck.
"Ah, ah, ah..." he hissed. "Not so fast, little con artist."
He raised his voice. "Guards!"
Two men rushed in at once. At his command, spoken in their tongue, they dragged Sira forward, tied her hands tightly behind her back. They forced her down onto her knees before him.
Uzek stood over her with the dagger still in hand.
"I had my suspicions," he said slowly. "But I wanted to believe otherwise. You are beautiful, yes, beautiful enough to be a princess. And I had heard the princess of Ivarion was trained as a warrior. But you... Your hands tell a different story. They’re way too rough. Too calloused. Not the hands of a royal lady."
He looked closely at her. "And your tongue... You tried well to hide it, to bury the sound of your birth. Years in Ivarion have given you their voice. But once a nomad, always a nomad. I know the sound of my people, even when the world tries to strip it away."
Sira glared up at him, saying nothing.
He leaned closer and made a wicked smile. "It was a clever trick, pretending to be the princess. And you nearly fooled me. Which only means one thing, you are close to her. Very close. And that tells me something very important..." He paused and narrowed his eyes. "The princess is still here. In this camp."
Uzek crouched lower, dropped his voice, and whispered to her ear. "Now listen carefully. You will take me to her. Or you will die."
He stood again. "And not quickly, no. Death is too easy a gift. I will cut you apart, piece by piece. Fingers, arms, legs. Slowly. Painfully. until you beg me to end it. And I will feed every part of you back to you before the end."
"So," he said at last. "Choose. The princess... or your life."