Once, it had been something Rickard would have considered a dream come true. To be able to bask in the presence of a genius of war. Really a demi-goddess of war and the science of battle. Her writings on wartime theory were formative for him growing up. Many humans studied the common tactics of their native heroes. Rickard studied the tactics and battlefield strategies of Elsira. There was much to admire about Nalista. She wasn’t just a general, she was known for building out infrastructure where she went. She was often a governess until one was assigned to her newly conquered provinces. 

Now the dream was reality and it was a case of one should be careful what they wished for. Nalista was every bit what he had imagined, every bit the overwhelming presence of a woman that one would expect. She was also very much a product of her empire. No matter what they were, she was an elf. He was a human. She made the divide crystal clear. Moments like these were what drove that in. 

“Such a lovely little pet there, Grand General. Very cute.” 

“Indeed, I have never seen a human male that pretty before. Are you going to breed him?” 

“I’ve got a lovely little lady back home. If you do intend to by all means I’d be delighted to share her litter.”

There was a slight jerk at his arms that tugged him. The rather lovely silver cuffs were attached along a thin chain that went up. And up. And was linked to a very elegant silver ring around Nalista’s second toe. She had her foot resting on a rather well cushioned rest, reclining back against a throne set up in Fort Ehbach. Evidently there was a celebration being held there over the recent string of victories over Albar. One that had attracted a number of nobles from the Empire. If he were commanding the army, it would have been a fine moment to strike. Now… Now he was an amusement for the nobles of Elsira. 

The blonde general was dressed in her best uniform, an elegant white and gold outfit that did much to display her womanly grace and vigor. Her boots were set down nearby, the flawless white boots had a pair of captured noble ladies of Albar tied to the inch and a half heels that elevated them. He was the main eye catching prize of the evening it seemed though. Put on display for the rather heartachingly beautiful ladies to see. 

“I’ll consider it. He has some years in him before I need to think about putting him out like that.” Nalista boomed, idly moving her toe and jerking him toward her foot. 

“I heard he was the commander of their army. The one that sacked all of those border settlements.” One lady remarked, peering down at him before snorting. “Sometimes the only way they learn is in chains. I’d pay a great deal to fix that one to a ring.” 

“Not for sale I’m afraid my dear. My little Rose is a war trophy you see, one I intend to enjoy for years to come.” She responded. 

“His name is Rose? How fitting.” 

“I think it's cute, more males should have flowery names!” 

“Rickard. It's Rickard.” He muttered under his breath. He had to tell himself that every time. Every time she called him a little Rose. Every time she addressed him by Rose. Like an affirmation of who he was. A compact with himself that he wouldn’t give that up. The elves didn’t care. To them, Nalista had said that was his name and so that was his name. 

The hall had been renovated with elven magic and looked rather elegant and fine. He had heard that was often what was done to new conquest so in a way it was interesting to see. The city would simply be changed through use of mages that were specifically gifted in changing terrain and structures. The hard stone of Fort Ehbach had been shaped and warped to something quite pretty as a picture on a hill. A good base of operations for the Grand General during her conquest. 

All around there were elves dressed in fine silks and pretty dresses. Drinking expensive wines, basking in the presence of the Grand General. It was rare that the bonde didn’t have a number of nobles and hgh ranking mages approaching her and chattering away at her about this or that. Or ones that simply wanted to peer down at her curiosity. The one responsible for sacking their settlements. Jeering at the defeated commander like he was a bird in a cage. 

When the newest collection scattered and gave her a rare moment of peace a sigh escaped the woman. “Can’t leave here fast enough.” She muttered. 

“Victory not to your tastes?” He managed to pipe up. 

Her triangular ears twitched ever so and rather than step on him as she probably would have done she shrugged. “I enjoy the taste of victory. I don’t so much enjoy prissy peacocks wishing to rub against me. Half of them would stab their fellows in the eye for a better position in court. I vastly prefer a more honest conduct of battle. Courtroom nonsense is ever the tiring dance.” She remarked. 

“The ones that extol war without knowing much of its cost. It annoys you.” He stated rather than asked. 

“It doesn’t simply annoy me. I loathe it. These people aren’t the ones bleeding for the advancement of Elsira. They are the parasites that drink dry the blood of their fellows. I understand it. That does not mean I enjoy it. There are those like Idriana who are effective administrators placed due to their skills and loyalty to the Empire. And then there are brats that were lucky to have been squeezed out of the right womb. These are by and large the latter.” Nalista said. 

There wasn’t venom in her voice but a sort of frustration. In a way he could understand it. He had often considered the ways of nobility like in Albar to be somewhat backward. Birth dedicated one's power. Even as a Prince he had to recognize the unfairness that was inherent in that. Starved of any stimulation for his mind he pushed a bit further, knowing well that at any moment Nalista could tire of the back and forth and end it without effort. 

“What is your ideal then? Something like a republic?” He asked. 

“Hmm…” She lifted her other foot and scratched her big toe against the sole of the foot Rickard was linked to. “No. Not exactly. Republics are too often bent by the will of those without clarity of the larger picture. The rule of many is not an effective form of government. I believe an Empire is a good system, however I believe it should be merit based and not through inheritance. Offices and posts awarded based on skill and ability and not based on birth. To some degree the Citadel practices this, but too often the noble mage families can snub those without such power. The Council is in theory a body of government ruled by the wisest and most skilled mages to advise the Empress. In practice the positions are dynastic. So they pass laws that prop up the dynastic system.” Nalista answered at length. 

“There is a flaw in your line of thinking I believe.” He answered. 

“Oh? Do tell, little Rose.” She asked as she stopped scratching and shifted her foot to the side ever so as to regard him. 

“A merit based system is also open to such a dynastic exploitation. In an Empire as large and sprawling as Elsira the Empress cannot assign power at all levels to the people she desires, such a vast undertaking requires delegation to other people. There is also the fact that even codified law banning it can be overturned by a ruler that prefers a dynastic succession. A dynastic line of succession is also vastly more stable than one that is merit based as a merit based system by its nature rarely can have immediate and apparent successors lined up to take that position. Elven or Human that need for security in the change overs of power is always there.” He answered. 

“By that measure every system of government is open to such things. So what you are disagreeing with is less the system of government itself, more the idea of its creation to stop a dynastic system.” She stated rather than asked. 

Rickard felt somewhat engaged. A conversation rather like he had been hoping to have with her since they met in person. “Indeed. It is natural for those in a system of power, be it a democratic or dictatorial system, to desire familial dynasties. After all, the most bloody struggles or chaotic times are when power changes hands. This is made easier than most systems in a familial system. If a politician reaches their term limit those under them will be concerned about the demon they don’t know, so the son of the devil they do know will be much more appealing by default. As well, vassals would feel more comfortable that their existing power and rights are secured when a son of their ruler takes over.” 

Nalista seemed to consider that for a few moments. Rickard felt more human in that exchange than he had in… who knew how long. It was hard to keep track of time at this scale for him. Months probably. Months of being demeaned and used by the giant elves around him. She scratched her chin and lifted a finger up. 

“Ah. But this runs into a problem in your line of thinking. Humans die faster than elves. Power changeovers happen very frequently for your kind. They do not often happen here due to old age.” She pointed out. 

“Are you telling me that poison or accidents aren’t a cause of natural death in the Elsiran Empire?” 

“Cheeky, I’ll be going for a walk later with you in my boots for that one. Still, I suppose that is fair. We are more patient however not so patient as to wait for rivals to die.” She scratched her chin again. 

Rickard winced at that promise but very much enjoyed the exchange. What he didn’t enjoy was the feeling of his arms being jerked upward as the ring above flashed and glowed. The chain started to slowly be drunk up into the ring, pulling him along and then pulling him up with his arms above his head. He let out a pained cry as he was lifted up along her foot and eventually found himself dangling in front of her sole when the chain stopped. 

“You delight in being in my presence, little Rose. Really I don’t understand why you cling to your worthless human pride. I see your eyes light up when I speak with you like this. I see you gazing long at me towering above you. I barely have to try to arouse you. Is there such shame in losing yourself to me entirely?” She mused as she curled her toes and the chains dipped slightly before her toes moved back into their proper place. 

“Thats like telling me to stop being a person.” He shot back. 

“You aren’t a person.” She remarked. 

He growled. “I am.” 

“What is 2+2?” 

“Five.” 

The word left his lips by instinct. An instinct ground into him by Dalia when asked that question. He didn’t need to see Nalista’s face to know there was an amused smirk on her lips at the answer. “You believe that because you were told to believe it. Because an elf told you that is correct, little Rose. Would a person be so easy to shape?” 

Rickard locked his jaw. “Thats different. It was under torture.” 

“It was under training.” She corrected. “Torture is done to beings that have equal status. If I spoon out an elf’s eyes, that is torture. If I spoon out a human’s eyes, that is simply playing with food or punishing disobedience. You were trained to react that way. Just as I am training you now to crave my touch. And you do crave it. You can be honest. You revel in this don’t you? Part of you loves it. So close to a woman you worshiped as a heroine, that woman granting you affections, talking with you. Using you. There is no shame in such a thing, as a non-person it's hardly embarrassing.” 

Rickard would have immediately refuted it before. Now, there were two sides of him warring. One that clung to his humanity and the other did indeed worship Nalista. She was correct. This was heaven and hell. To be in the possession of one such as Nalista was like an illicit fantasy come to life. A fantasy he more and more found himself having to actively fight falling to. His silence likely spoke volumes to her of course. 

“You don’t need to say anything, little Rose. I see it in you. And I will happily wait. Wait for the day you are mine, mind and soul.” She laughed. Laughter that shook him inside and outside as he hung like an ornament for all to see dangling from her foot.