Chapter 21

To Io, severed heads were an everyday sight. Ever since her minotaur was young, she had pampered it so much that it wouldn’t touch anything but fresh meat dripping with blood, so she always butchered the carcasses herself. Whenever she prepared the meat in front of the whining, impatient minotaur, she always removed the head first. Meat with a head still attached was an unpleasant sight, and looking into a slave’s eyes, filled with pain and resignation, made her feel as though she were growing numb herself, so she’d toss the head aside as soon as she cut it off. But this time, she couldn’t do that.