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Tea sits warmly in Eir’s hands as she takes a deep drink. A gurgling sound echoes throughout the castle.
Thrasir looks down at the sight of the death throes of the foolish noble that dare attempt an assassination on the Princess of Hel. There is a grin that reaches her lips at watching this suffering. The blood that flows is beautiful.
“I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“I always have.” Eir replies.
Thrasir sits on her haunches and watches.
“You’re just like her.”
Eir takes another sip and nods.
The women watch the nobleman die a slow death.