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Summary
“I think you might be ready,” Miriael muses, walking around to the front of the altar again. Olga’s despairing eyes follow her, and try to track the whip when Miriael lifts it to push her hair back with the handle. “There’s a friend I’d like you to meet. What do you think?”
Olga’s lips shape her name soundlessly, and then the canoness turns her face away, tears staining her cheeks. Miriael smiles.
“My friends gave me a gift when they left,” she says, reaching into her robes and pulling out a crystalline vial. “Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it.”
***
Instead of killing Olga, Miriael takes her former subordinate captive, and sets about breaking her into the perfect compliant toy.