“I cannot believe you were unable to capture an unarmed boy.” In her private reception room in the Prism Palace, an irate Jaycina confronts a very nervous and groveling Judiah. The brick red polished nails of her spidery hands tap impatiently on the carved ebony arms of her chair. She throws a deadly gaze at Judiah whose knees threaten to buckle under him. “Perhaps you are not worthy of your commission in my secret service.”
“I beg your forgiveness, High Priestess.” Judiah"s hands clasped together pitifully, causing Jaycina"s eyes to narrow with disdain. “The men who failed shall be properly punished. But, believe me - I, myself, could not be there to capture him. If he had seen me I would no longer be of any use to you.”
“You"re worthless to me now,” Jaycina hisses the words.
“An unwor
