Her Cleavage Allegiance: Peta Pledges

Then the Sovereign laughed—a real, unguarded laugh that startled the court more than the pledge itself. “Rise, Peta. Your allegiance is… accepted.”

She rose, the velvet whispering against the marble. And as she took her place at the Sovereign’s right hand, a whisper slithered through the court: Did she just win, or sign her death warrant? peta pledges her cleavage allegiance

Peta smiled, slow and sure. “Only the right to stand close enough to use it. When the assassin’s blade comes, let my heart be your shield. When the poison is poured, let my instincts be your taster. You have a thousand people who would die for you from a distance, Your Magnificence. I am the only one asking to die against you.” Then the Sovereign laughed—a real, unguarded laugh that

The Sovereign leaned forward. The court fell silent. This was either the rise of a genius or the fall of a fool. And as she took her place at the

“Your Magnificence,” Peta said, her voice a silken purl that cut through the court’s murmur. She did not bow. Instead, she placed a hand on the plunging neckline of her gown of midnight velvet. It was a calculated gesture, theatrical and absurd, yet delivered with the gravity of a high priestess at an altar.

And she had found her weapon.