Satisfied with her obedience, especially with her lack of experience, I stand and reach into my back pocket, pulling out the handcuff key.
She drops her head and lets out a soft sob knowing she’s being freed from the unforgiving metal binding her wrists. I walk behind her and grip her upper arm, pulling her to stand. She cries out and stumbles forward in her heels, but I hold her. I inspect her wrists and hands before I undo them. There’s a little bit of blood running down her hands from them cutting into her skin, and they’re blue from lack of circulation.
This is her doing.
I had asked her if they were too tight in front of the Lords. It was for show. When she said yes, I couldn’t show any weakness, so I tightened them. But in all honesty, it was setting her up to fail. If she had sai
