An experimental piece, written on the spur of a moment. Written from the viewpoint of the oft over-looked character, the woman of the evil one.


My husband is cold and restrained. He is a proud man of noble heritage. He is a bringer of Death, a harbinger of hell. He has been called a tyrant, an evil overlord, a cruel master.

I love him.

They will never know who the real Lord Deathstrike is. They will never know who the real Lady Deathstrike is. My husband wants us to stay the idols, the figures of the empire he is building. I will respect his wishes. A wife must serve her husband, as long as he does not demand too much.

He is cold to the world, but it is only because the world is cold to him. In his audiences with his generals and his people, he is a ruler with a cold and ruthless hand. I have heard the courtiers whisper among themselves. They ask, how can the mighty and coldblooded Lord Deathstrike love if he cannot hate? They think that I am a toy, a pawn, just for show. His "woman", they call me behind my back.

I never wonder that.

When we are alone in our chambers, when he makes love to me in the middle of the night,I know just how passionate he is. I know how much he loves me, how afraid he is of losing everything. I know what he wants, what he fears. I know.

It is his weakness that he will never let anyone else see. He knows that I alone, will love him for all his strengths and his faults. To his people he must be unmovable and strong, incapable of being usurped.

He bade me take a new name, just as he did, when he rose to the throne of his new empire; so I did. I do not mind. With the new name should come a new identity. But I will never change. I will always be his loving wife, devoted and mindful of my place by his side.

Let the courtiers whisper. Let the nobles wonder. Let the people spread their fearful rumors. Let them say what they will.

I am his in body, in heart and in soul. He is my husband. I am his wife.

It is as it should be.