(A work in progress)

There were those who whispered the Warlord had no heart. Others, who had earned his wrath, muttered he did indeed have a heart. The heart of a child. Kept in a very small sealed chest. Late at night, they said, when the evil in his soul kept him from sleep, he would wander the halls of the palace, tossing the chest from hand to hand, and the sound of the child’s heartbeat would echo in the dark halls, louder and LOUDER…

“So you’ve been scaring the new maids with your ‘restless soul’ routine in the halls again, have you?”

“How else am I to scare them into instant obedience? Works every time!”

“You may have outdone yourself this time. Several of them ran to Cook, waking her up with their hysterics, and she was that angry she told Betsy she didn’t want to cook your breakfast.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, OH! Betsy was so annoyed with you she told Cook not to bother, she’d prepare your breakfast herself. Hungry now?”

“What! I’m to be poisoned? You know her cooking!”

“Lucky for you I do, so I persuaded her to let me do it. Eat up, and prepare for a scolding.”

“What, this was not?”

“This was a friendly warning. Betsy is VERY annoyed.”