Deferential Peace

Celestia wondered how long it had taken for her to become noseblind to the sweet scent of honey ambrosia.

‘Ambrosia’ being an ambiguous term, she wasn’t entirely certain what was in the drink beyond the obvious, pungent sweetness of too much honey. She sometimes detected a hint of spearmint or even lime, but the alcohol volume of the brew produced fumes intense enough to burn her sinuses so badly, it left her wondering if her muzzle was playing tricks on her. There had been a time where she detected so many strange fruit or spice scents from it that she reasoned the drink might have no specific recipe at all.

Whatever was in honey ambrosia, Celestia found the concoction offensive, and she imbibed the drink on a regular basis merely to save face. It was apparently a steppe favorite of wandering minotaurs, but in the past six months, it had also become popular with the griffons and diamond dogs who populated Canterlot. There was simply no escaping the drink, but to Celestia’s credit, she had become quite adept at carrying goblets of it balanced on crystal trays atop her head.

On one particular evening, Celestia found the tray removed and quickly replaced by heavy fingers that tousled the hair between her ears. She had been allowed to let her flowing locks partially free again because it pleased her master to see them, but her mane and tail both remained tightly tied by bells and ribbon approximately two-thirds of the way down. Her hair was thus left to puff up and wriggle against its bonds over and over, like a balloon that was being constantly filled and emptied of air. Her garments were otherwise no different from the first day she had been graced with them – her sheer veil, the flowing, transparent silks, and the collar of unity clasped about her neck were required attire in public. Elegant stockings were a rule as well, and she had a closet full of different pairs to accommodate.

The large hand slipped down to her chin, affectionately scratching her there as if she were a cat. It then cupped her cheek and tugged lightly three times. With the cool moon bathing her back through a high stone window, Celestia obeyed the wordless command and settled herself between her master’s legs. A moment later, the tip of her muzzle was brushing against a thick, proud erection that was most likely a product of the loosening drink and the evening’s revelry. Like a toy set to automatic, Celestia discreetly silenced herself upon her master’s penis, sliding it down her maw with practiced poise until the sweet-smelling air was replaced by the scent of his musky stomach fur. She took in a deep, familiar breath, and began a slow suckling pace – she knew her master was simply relaxing after a fine party. It wouldn’t do to rush him.

Kessen the First, Emperor of Equestria, lounged in a tall throne that sat on a raised dais just above a set of long tables. The piles of pillows that once adorned the dais had been replaced with seating that more befitted a minotaur’s frame, but they were not absent. On warm nights such as these, when wine and entertainment were the natural conclusion to a tiresome day of governance, the entire throne room was converted into a banquet hall for the elite, and the pillows that once held equine royalty were available to any in attendance who desired to rest upon them.

Mixed in with the pillows and the fine flatware was a ghoulish smattering of bones from wild game beasts – a staple of the carnivorous diet that was now prevalent among the Equestrian elite. Torches set around the perimeter of the chamber added their flickering luminescence to the night sky, bathing the discarded remains of a feast and the cavorting of three converging harems in unearthly light.

Kessen continued to ruffle his pet’s mane, but he did not favor her with a look or word of appreciation. To pleasure him, at any time, in any place, was simply her lot. He was pleased with how she’d taken to it, but there was no reason to fuel his possession’s ego too much. In his other hand he swirled a golden goblet of honey ambrosia. He took a deep breath from the goblet, savoring the succulent scent before indulging in a sip. The sharp alcohol hit him, and his words came on a long exhale-

“I wonder, Iago, how much longer it will be before you realize we are at peace.”

Halfway down the long table to Kessen’s left sat Iago, the griffon king. Iago had always insisted upon the spot closest to the windows; Kessen attributed the quirk to the habits of flying creatures, preferring to not be far from the freedom of the sky. As with Kessen, Iago had a number of ponies in attendance who once made up the Canterlot elite. Now dressed in harem finery, their duty was to keep his goblet full and his ego well groomed. Iago had just finished sharing a deep kiss with a turquoise mare who had poured him more wine, but it did nothing to soften the crispness of his posture.

“You look like a gargoyle, perching like that,” Kessen observed. “What example do you set for your birds?”

Iago took no offense to the term, for he himself had coined it. ‘Birds’ was the designation for his personal guard squadron, who had successfully preyed upon and brought down the mighty Princess Luna so many months ago. Iago’s brow went up.

“A better one than you’re setting,” the griffon king replied impertinently. “What’s wrong with constant diligence? Did you forget about the P.R.E?”

Kessen swiped an apple from a passing tray carried by a servant and bit down half of it in one gulp He chuckled as he watched his pet dutifully pleasure him. “Ah yes, the ‘Pony’s Republic of Equestria.’ Not a very imaginative name, is it.”

Iago made a face – fresh produce bore flavors he didn’t care for. Once upon a time Kessen didn’t either, but Iago noticed that as the minotaur acclimated to his new society, it seemed some of it was rubbing off on him. As usual, the griffon king felt no shame sharing his opinion, even in the face of his emperor-

“We should have kept the momentum going. Every day we delay, we’re giving those coastal cities time to gain power. To oppose us.”

Kessen lazily counted the major players off on his fingers. “Manehattan. Baltimare. Fillydelphia. Your fear them that much, do you?”

“And Appleoosa in the south!” Iago growled. “I’ve asked you before, Kessen, and I’ll ask you again. Why do we delay? We should blitz them all and destroy them, just like we did here!”

Kessen rolled his eyes dramatically. “Appleoosa is an isolated farming community in the deep south. The coastal cities can call themselves whatever they desire, but we firmly hold Equestria, as we have since the day of peace. You know as well as I do that our forces have systematically brought down Cloudsdale, Ponyville, and everything in between from Neighagra Falls to Las Pegasus.”

“The Crystal Empire is on the other side of Neighagra Falls,” Iago rumbled, scratching at the scar on the side of his head with a claw as he drained his goblet in one fell drag with the other. “We’re giving the coastal cities time to ally with them. The other elemental keepers are in Manehattan, and they have the ear of Princess Cadance. The war-“

Kessen slammed his fist into the arm of his chair so hard, even Iago jumped. It was all Celestia could do not to accidentally bite him, but she kept her eyes averted and her task on her mind. The minotaur lord flexed inside her mouth – she swirled her tongue, placating him as best she could.

“The war is already over,” Kessen said simply. “Those magic items you speak of are locked safely away in dog caverns so myriad, the dogs themselves likely cannot even decipher them. There is but one princess remaining, and she rules over a tiny nation that lacks the military might for a major engagement against us. The ‘Ponies Republic of Equestria’ is an undefined conglomeration of coastal cities populated by shopkeepers and miscreants.”

“B-but-“

“Patience, Iago,” Kessen sat back again, and Celestia was pleased to feel the muscles of his powerful thighs slacken. “We have only recently subdued this territory. We are spread too thinly as it is, and our message has not touched all of the ponies in the lands we control. We will wait until we have truly solidified our hold here, and the populace has accepted us as peers in their daily lives. Farmers and civilians removed from a conflict tire of war quickly. Leave their families and children largely unmolested, and the idea of renewing hostilities will prove unpopular.”

“…that could take years…”

“And what if it does?” Kessen snorted and waved his arm dramatically though the room, “Have I not provided your birds with everything they desired? You have more bits than you know what to do with, and Griffonstone is now a prosperous protectorate of our new Equestria. Even the dogs have all that they could ever have want—“ Kessen paused as his eye turned to an empty chair on the opposite side of the table from Iago. “…where is the dog king?”

Iago merely pointed to a large pile of satin pillows that had been hastily gathered in a corner of the room. The attendants of the dog king were mulling about uncertainly as he helped himself to a chocolate brown mare. Properly mounted behind the elegant specimen, he was simply taking her, roughly pounding her backside with his paws firmly planted on her hips.

“…nrgh…p-pony…I am king…my pony…”

The mare was panting softly, but she was not struggling. Clearly this was not her first time copulating with her canine overlord.

Iago looked droll. “I thought you were only going to give him one pony.”

Kessen let out a hearty bellow. He laid his hand on the back of Celestia’s head – it was her signal to hold still so he could control the next several thrusts at his own depth and pace. He tested her gag reflex, and when she passed, he let her back to doing the work herself. “Now, now, Iago, ponies are not property to give. Well, unless they are symbols of the former hierarchy. It began with removing the chief figureheads of state, and showing the populace that they were willing to service us. It trickles down from there to the landed gentry.”

“You’re putting a lot of trust in having all these ponies around,” Iago muttered.

Kessen reached down to caress Celestia’s cheek. “Do not blame the rest of us for your interest in the feisty princess. Mine has taken to her training well, though I ultimately had no need to trust her without her sheath. Is that not correct, Celestia?”

Celestia mumbled, sending a pleasant reverberation across the veins of her master’s spire.

Iago smirked. “You just got lucky. The sun and moon started working on their own again, because that other princess had just as much to lose from them not working as we did.”

Celestia suppressed a smile. She had always wondered if it were possible for another alicorn to take over the duties of sun and moon. Cadance had far more tenacity than even Celestia had given her credit for, if she had been able to step up to the task and succeed at it.

Iago folded his forelegs and watched with disinterest as the dog king took his charge. “My birds need something to do,” he complained. “There’s too much peace.”

“You will keep them under control,” Kessen warned. Satisfied that his caveat had been delivered, the emperor softened and let out a small grunt, shifting on his throne to provide his pet’s hoof with a soft pair of testicles to massage. “You’re too uptight, Iago. This is a party and we’re about to have entertainment, provided by our very own king of canines. Make yourself comfortable.”

Iago finally cracked a devilish smile. His favorite pet was feisty indeed, and that’s what he liked about her. The other princesses were simply too…flaccid. He let out a whistle, as though calling an animal to his side.

“Luna! Attend me!”

The Moon took her time of obeying. Emerging from an antechamber where she sat awaiting her master’s summons, she sauntered out; the clack of her hooves softened by the long stockings that ran up past her knees. She was adorned just as Celestia was, with her mane and tail bobbing like fishing weights against their partial bonds, and a sheer violet veil before her lips. Her feathery, flexible collar was locked as firmly in place as the suppressor over her horn. Like her fellow former princesses, a choice few of her primary feathers had been removed – strategically clipped to rob her of flight while still retaining the elegant beauty of her wings. The moment she was close enough, Iago took her hard under the chin and bore into her with his stare.

“I don’t like weak pets,” Iago simmered. “I want you to look at me when I’m addressing you.”

Luna kept her eyes infuriatingly downcast. Knowing what was to come, another pony attendant was already stroking Iago’s drakehood to life, favoring it with tender kisses as it rose to meet her. Iago chuckled, his eyes still only on Luna.

“Don’t ever change, Nightbird,” He smiled. “I’d be so bored. We’ll make you fat with hippogriff babies yet.”

With that, he reared his claw back and smacked Luna right across the cheek. Kessen had a look of disapproval for his companion’s abject cruelty, but he ignored Iago’s methods and began to call for the entertainment.

Beyond the griffon king’s notice, Celestia opened one eye and fixed her little sister with a commanding stare. Luna finally rose to meet Iago’s eyes. She swallowed and reached a hoof between her hind legs, making certain he could see the movement.

“Yes…Master.”

Iago grinned and patted Luna too hard on the cheek. “Down.”

Luna dipped her head down, as though lowering herself to drink from a clear spring, and took over for the other servant. Slowly she allowed Iago’s girth to fill her cheeks.

Kessen spoke. “I have studied the Canterlot archives, and I believe it is indeed possible for our pets to grow heavy with our progeny. However, the seed does not plant itself easily. It will take many breedings.”

“You talk like that’s a problem,” Iago replied, his attention still on Luna’s supple curves. He slapped her rump just to do so. “When it comes to that, I got nothin’ but time.”

Kessen placed a hand on Celestia’s shoulder, signaling her to slow down. She had begun to instinctively work him towards release, but he was not yet ready to end the evening’s revelry. He spoke to her, encouraging her to look up at him while her lips were still fully involved.

“This why you are mine, and mine alone,” Kessen told her. “And your sister belongs to another of your rulers. When your time comes to grow heavy, it will be with my seed, and our progeny shall know which of us is the better example to follow.”

“All except for King ‘King’,” Iago chimed in as Luna worked him. “I don’t think he gives a damn who bangs his princess. Just so long as she learns how to dance with shiny gems all over her.”

The dog king couldn’t have missed the remark. But he was sitting up against a wall now, his erection twitching, as two mares took to the task of licking him clean. All of his ponies were decked out in garish headdresses, encrusted sloppily with heavy gems from the mines.

“Indeed,” Kessen agreed. He clapped his hands again. “Speaking of which, fill the goblets and bring in the entertainment!”

Servants scurried about the throne room, which had become a private chamber where Kessen and his lords hid their nightly debauchery. Stepping lightly and led by an entourage of mares that jingled with rough canine finery, Twilight Sparkle graced the room with an uncharacteristically athletic step. She was adorned with twice as many bells as her counterparts, such that she could barely flick an ear without sending a melodious tune throughout the room. Her silks and stockings were virginally white, but they held within them a mare who was anything but – Twilight’s heavy stomach was sagging with a burden that the dog king often proudly declared to be his, but considering his willingness to share his pet even with other ponies, the claim’s authenticity had long been in question. Nobody doubted that the king himself believed it, of course.

Twilight’s headdress was mercifully little more than a tiara, sparing her the heavy weight of solid gems upon her brow. Her eyelids were deep, royal blue, her lashes curled, and the veil over her muzzle was so thin, she had no freedom to wear any expression other than the sly grin she had been practicing in the mirror.

Twilight hadn’t been allowed near a book since the finalizing of the peace treaty. Instead, what time hadn’t been spent in service to her master was instead devoted to rigorous training in the art of making a spectacle out of herself for his amusement. The dog king wasn’t much different from his subjects in his appreciation for pretty possessions, and thus, Twilight’s mind had been allowed to dull slightly in favor of strengthening her limbs for the art of dance. With a select cadre of ponies already skilled in the performing arts retained to guide her, she had picked up on the task with her usual studiousness, and in short months she’d grown into quite the expert. She had the potential to become as much of a virtuoso as she was in magic, but dance held no appeal to her beyond a means to an end.

Twilight tried to catch the eye of Celestia or Luna, but both were too involved in their tasks. Celestia still held Kessen in her mouth, and had shut her eyes to whimper in response to the re-insertion of the golden anal plug she now wore often. Luna had received a yank from her master for her trouble, until she was up on her haunches and properly straddling him. He took her lips roughly with his sharp beak, obliging Luna to accept the inevitable, blood-drawing pinch she always received whenever Iago got a little rowdy. The griffon king placed his claws on her shoulders and gave her a firm push – it was the signal to lower herself onto his waiting drakehood. In private she might have put disapproving body language into the act, but in the presence of her sister, Luna merely lowered herself until Iago’s hips met hers, his spire deeply within her.

As the lords of the manor settled into their pleasure, their attention turned one-by-one to Twilight. Even the dog king joined in the ogling, as he panted softly and ruffled the mane of an attendant mare who had settled her muzzle between his legs.

Twilight moved. Bereft of magic and robbed of flight, the Princess of Friendship traced every step of her routine the earth pony way. Before her hooves had as much as moved, she was already at the end of the performance and starting anew in her mind. The steps had become so routine that she could execute them with as much grace as a sheet of long-division problems, but she kept her smile broad, and flipped her mane provocatively as she leapt upon the tables, servants clearing a space for her muted, stockinged hooves to fall. Stockings had become more than a fashion statement within the borders of the palace – they were a requirement. Kessen’s psychological retraining of the equine populace went so far as to divorce them even from the familiar sound of their clacking hooves upon the stone floors.

There were no musicians, nor did Twilight require any. Her outfit was a masterwork of subtle symphonic design, the like of which spoke strongly of the new Equestrian society. The mark of her brethren was clearly upon it, but the fine silks sported a clever deployment of bells and chimes, both visible and non, that sang with exotic steppe melodies. It was impractical for everyday use, but in the hooves of a trained performer, each and every move was a fantastic amalgamation not only of pleasing sights, but sounds to match.

Twilight ‘played’ her silks like an opus, but her attention was not on the routine steps of the dance. The moon was high and bright, and the sky was the clearest it had been all week. It was all the princesses could do to subtly encourage their masters to conduct the business of private parties on nights when the moon could provide sufficient light and visibility across the countryside. Tonight was one such night, and Twilight wasn’t about her miss her opportunity.

As Twilight gyrated her heavy belly, she cast a glance at Celestia out of the corner of her eye. The former sun princess returned the look for but a second before refocusing her attention on her emperor’s pleasure, but the momentary glance told Twilight all she needed to know. Out there, somewhere on the horizon, a spy waited. He was in danger for his life, but his mission was clear – to return to the Crystal Empire with the latest news of the movements of Emperor Kessen. He would stay at his post until he had something to return with, and Twilight would provide it.

Twilight flowed like water, bending and twisting in ways that her previous self would scarce have attempted. Her savant-level intelligence sharpened – as she moved, every flip of her tail and twist of her legs took on new purpose. To the tune of her clattering bells, Twilight turned portions of her body to and fro in the light of the moon, strategically exposing the many gems that adorned her to the light of the moon in short and long bursts. In her thoughts, she counted the cadence of Morse code, following every letter of every word she dispatched for Princess Cadance’s eyes to review the following morning.

Twilight’s communication to the north continued until the dog king’s libido overtook his already dull sensibilities. Inevitably the canine ruler was drawn in the allure of his pet, and leapt up upon the table himself to quench his need for her. With even less tact than his royal counterparts, the king thought nothing of marching about with his erection bobbing in the breeze, nor did it concern him when he simply bent his pony onto her knees to mount her.

Twilight knew better than to resist. If the clandestine movements of her fellow conspirators were ever to succeed, it was absolutely imperative to behave as if their operations did not exist. Twilight allowed her chin to be lowered to the table. She lifted her tail for the dog king and wiggled her rump enticingly, until she felt the familiar stretching of her feminine opening to accept his claim upon her.

With the song of her subterfuge complete, Twilight’s ears perked at the many sounds in the room. Kessen and Iago were long since locked in the pleasure of their toys. Celestia was playing her role to the hilt – now openly riding the broad minotaur, she raised her muzzle to the ceiling of her throne room and cried out passionately, grinding her hips into him to the tune of slick slaps of love.

Luna was laying at Iago’s side. Her channel was leaking with his sticky musk, and she seemed utterly exhausted from the intensity of her joining with him. Iago himself was blatantly necking with a griffon hen. As was his habit, he sat his goblet atop Luna’s body, where he expected her to hold it carefully aloft until he came to claim it again.

Twilight tensed. While the fall of her homeland had been a blow not easily absorbed, she felt that it brought about a deepening of her relationship with the royal sisters that transcended anything they had before. Three former princesses turned harem pets, they were also a trio of diligent conspirators who had pledged to work in the shadows of plain sight, day and night for as long as it took to bring about change. At first their conversations had been harsh and argumentative, with Luna and Twilight favoring a more direct course of action. It had ultimately been Celestia herself who had quashed any talk of making martyrs out of the new ruling class by murdering them in their sleep.

Twilight’s ears dropped as her recent memories played on. She felt shame for the cruel things she had accused her mentor of, up to and including siding with their enemy. Celestia’s wisdom had once again proved to humble her student. The three of them would act, but they would have to proceed with such subtlety that no mind, no matter how cold and calculating, could ever find them out. Thus the princesses had each accepted their training to be ideal pets, with every affront and violation that came with it.

Twilight flexed her blooming marehood and gripped her partner as he pulsed inside her. She thought of her friends and wondered what their daily lives were like now. She too was fighting the good fight, but there was a guilty pleasure she knew she could never speak of to any of them, if she ever saw them again. It was a pleasure the three princesses, stressed as they were with each passing day, all shared.

The truth was…not every moan, nor every orgasm, was fake.

* * * * *

Twilight felt the familiar caress of her mentor’s hoof upon her cheek. Her eyes fluttered open. For a moment the world was a wash of blurry color, but everything soon coalesced into the surroundings of the palace throne room as she brought her eyes into focus. She glanced at her mentor above her and made to stand, but a heavy weight barred the act. She felt the oscillations of breathing, and found the dog king fast asleep upon the dining table, using her gem-clad rump as a pillow. Twilight stared at the peacefully sleeping king until Celestia’s voice finally broke her reverie.

“You do not hate him, do you.”

Twilight shook her head without looking up. “I…feel like I should, but…not exactly, no. I hate what he’s been a part of, but all his people wanted were shiny jewels. They don’t even use them as money or anything. They just like to stare at them.” Twilight swallowed. “How many of them did Kessen talk into dying in battle just for that? I bet if we had just given them some jewels in the first place, they would have been just as happy.”

“Even when he takes your body, still you do not hate him?” Celestia led. Twilight looked down at her swell and ran her hoof across it.

“I…don’t think it’s even his,” Twilight replied obliquely. “They keep me away from the library on purpose, but I can still find research materials here and there. No matter what Kessen says, I’m not convinced any of them can actually breed with us.”

“Breeding with royalty solidifies your place in a royal line,” Celestia replied. “We don’t know for certain that they can, but neither can we be certain that they cannot. It is therefore a rush for Kessen and Iago to stake their claims. For your master, however…” Celestia managed a look of whimsy, “I think it is just plain fun.”

Twilight gently extracted herself from the dog king and laid his head softly upon the table. Kessen and Iago were still at their seats. All three self-made monarchs were lost in inebriated dreams.

“They’re so…peaceful,” Twilight observed as she hopped carefully from the table, so as to minimize the sounds of her outfit. She felt a warm sensation oozing down her thigh. She glanced at Celestia’s backside, and found both the same weeping from her flower, and the gilded plug still in her rump. “He didn’t say you had to wear that all night this time, did he?”

“Only when I have not pleased him,” Celestia replied. “I’ll remove in when we retire.”

“Then it is a wonder you wear it at all, Sister.”

The voice was Luna’s, and the two princesses turned to find The Moon, who had risen from her exhaustion. Her master was by far the roughest of the three, and it showed in the love bites and other marks that marred Luna’s coat. Luna turned towards Iago and gritted her teeth.

“Luna,” Celestia warned, “Stay yourself.”

Luna spoke through a hiss, “It is all I ever do anymore, staying myself. What if they are correct, Sister? What if this…creature’s seed ultimately finds its mark?”

Celestia ignored the edge in her sister’s tone. “Then we shall endeavor to bring your child into the same world we hope for Twilight’s. One that is as it once was.”

Luna concentrated. The sheath upon her head did nothing, but it was not difficult to imagine the sparkle of the horn beneath. “We could bring about change right now…”

Luna felt a hoof upon her shoulder. Unexpectedly she found Twilight there. The smaller alicorn’s eyes were full of sympathy, and her voice was soft.

“Princess Luna, please…don’t. I know how difficult this all is, but Princess Celestia is right. My friends are with the P.R.E., and my brother and Princess Cadance are still in the Crystal Empire. We have to do what we can here, and just trust them.”

Luna let go of her malice and bowed her head, refusing to look at her companions. “It is perhaps the most difficult battle to fight…one without arms. Good evening.”

Luna disappeared down the hall on her way to the communal pet quarters without another word. Celestia came up beside Twilight, and the two of them surveyed the remains of the party. Amidst them lay the sleeping creatures who now held their own kind of court in Canterlot Palace throne room. Twilight turned her eyes to the northern sky. Again she touched her bulging belly.

“I…I just…”

Celestia stroked Twilight’s withers. “Shh, my student. You have endured many things. Your heart is as pure as the day I met you – the proof is in the lack of malice you feel towards the being who takes your body and bends you to his will every day. I know you will overcome this.”

“I just…” Twilight stammered softly, “…I’m pregnant now, I never thought…”

Celestia’s stroking intensified. She cupped Twilight’s cheek, turned her muzzle to her, and took her student’s lips with all the sensuality of a group party in the presence of their lords. When the kiss broke, Twilight’s cheeks were hot and her eyes were bewildered.

“…P-princess Celestia…?”

Celestia smoothed back her student’s mane and smiled wanly at her. “I must protect the lives of my subjects at all costs. My sister knows this. As do you. But you were my subject too once, Twilight. I ask you to endure. To accept your master’s orders, lie with him, receive his seed, and obey him as you would me. It may take a long time, but there will be a brighter day. When it comes, we will welcome it as welcome the morning sun that your sister-in-law now graces us with.”

Twilight managed a soft smile. “…y-yes Princess Celestia.”

Celestia leaned in and whispered in Twilight’s ear-

“I have lived a long time, and I have seen many things – things worse even than this. We will overcome. In the meantime, not every moment is pure agony, is it? Never let them break you, my student.”

With that, the enigmatic Sun trotted slowly from the room. Twilight stood in as much awe of her mentor as ever – Celestia’s patience seemed to know no bounds. Even in such a situation, she managed to maintain a positive air to project upon the ponies who still looked up to her.

Twilight straightened her tiara, gathered her silks, favored the dog king with a last look, and walked from the room.

If her mentor could endure, then so could she.