Magda was supposed to be away, smoothing over a matter with a disgruntled prominent Coheedsman who took issue with his wives being taught to fight. She’d arranged a meeting and believed everything to be set. But when she’d arrived…he was nowhere to be found. Magda furious and fuming, was forced to return home.

She could feel her control slipping away. Magda had always been a savvy political navigator, but as of late she’d grown sloppy. And she had a sneaking suspicion of what—or who—was to blame. Torn loyalty did not make a solid foundation for progress. Magda had always been a Nevermerean above all else, but now…she was fit for neither place.

Magda would storm into the Chieftain’s Hut, her home, and make for her bedroom unless stopped.

Izen was using his nose as he poked around the hut. There were perks to enhanced smell, though more often than not those with it found themselves encounter one foul odor or another. They learned to get used to it. They learned to differentiate even the personal smells, from body odor to yeast infections to time of the month to frequency of sex. His eyebrows rose at the smells around their bed…

Distracted, it was his ears that indicated a return. He rushed to the closest thing he thought would hide him—a furry curtain covering a window.

Upon entering her bedroom, Magda started to undress as if her clothes were to blame for her plight. She shucked her bangles off her wrists and took the pins out of her hair, letting her long curls fall around her shoulders. Magda was a whirling dervish, kicking off her shoes and freeing herself from her dress.

She had yet to notice anything amiss, too wrapped up in her own irritation.

Izen was mostly hidden, but he could still see. Heat burned in his face as he felt the conviction not to look—but how could he not? A woman like Magda was beautiful, irresistible even. His gaze dropped and rose multiple times, and as her clothes grew more scarce he suddenly felt the need to flea.

“Forgive me,” he said, coming out from the curtain, his eyes set towards the floor, “I should not be in here…” he would try to make a swift exit.

Magda had stripped down to her slip when Izen revealed himself. She whirled around, eyes flashing first with fear and then with anger. By the time she processed just who it was that had intruded into her home, her brother-in-law was already halfway to the door.

“Stop.”

The small gem on her finger was black, compelling the warrior to obey.

Izen was intent on leaving. He should never have come. He would have to tell Rian why he had been there, and it could lead to a host of issues…but he has honor. The door was so close, he was almost free, and then at once he was trapped.

His thinking mind dulled and all that became necessary was obedience. His body stopped. He turned slowly to face his master, usually bright brown eyes glossy.

Izen was under her spell, and there was nothing he could do to resist it. His body shuddered at her touch, the dog of his mind not extending to the awareness of his body. Her touch was electrifying, and the Coheedsman was but a man now sprung.

“I was looking for evidence.” He murmured, dark eyes gazing at her but also past her in a way.

There would be no misunderstanding. Izen was a rather simple man. His intentions were direct.

"Evidence of your disloyalty to Coheed and my brother." He said it without hesitation, voice still drawling slightly, because he'd had his mind set on this task and those discoveries.

“Nothing.” Was it possible for Izen’s disappointment to show through that haze of the manipulation of the ring? But it was the truth. He hadn’t had enough time. Or maybe there was no evidence there. Whatever the case, he was empty handed.