will starve to death, Geoffrey.” I frowned, moving my gaze to his wife. “Do you enjoy your husband, Genevieve?”
“I like my husband, but he doesn’t stimulate me. He climbs above me and ruts quickly, and before I can even feel much pleasure, he’s finished. If he could maybe take more time with me, I could feed him properly, as I would like.” Genevieve worried her hands in front of her and smiled slightly.
“Well, tell him that. Use communication in the bedroom and see what happens. If it still isn’t working, come back before poor Geoffrey starves to death. Next,” I said, pounding the floor three times with my staff.
“My Queen, this is Lance. He wants to exile his wife to the human world. He found a mistress that suits his needs better, but his wife’s family owns the property, and the only way to be rid of her is through banishment.”
“Is this true? You want to throw your wife out of Faery for your mistress?”
“It is, it is my right by status and station to toss her aside.”
“Right, so listen, jerk. I hereby banish you and your mistress to the human realm. Have a nice time with the apocalypse they’ve got going on there. May I suggest you stay on the East Coast so that your chances of survival are a little greater than they would be on the West Coast? Wife, you may remarry anyone you wish, so long as he will swear allegiance to My King and the horde. Next.”
Lance gasped, and his mistress howled, slapping him repeatedly as they were dragged from the room by force. I smirked, lifting my hand for Darynda to bring me some water as I spun the staff in place beside me. Once I’d drunk deeply from the cup, I slammed the staff against the floor three times.
The clerk began to speak, and I held my hand up. “How many are here because they’re unsatisfied with their wife? Please answer by raising your hand.” Most of the audience held up their hand. “How many are dissatisfied with her due to a lack of sex?” I counted hands. “How many have a stupid fucking reason for this?” Everyone lifted their hand. I smiled at their stupidity. I snapped my fingers, surveying the crowd, waiting, and then someone broke the silence of the room.
“I have no dick!” one male shouted.
“You stole my balls?” a man in the front row cried.
“I did, and when you figure out how to stop being selfish pricks, you may have them back. Wives are more important than just satisfying what lies between your thighs. You have grievances that you brought before us because you’re all fucking dicks. So, I took your dicks to show you that if you can waste my time, I can waste yours, and when I do it, it’s on a much grander scale.
“When you’ve earned your dicks back, which I suggest you do rather quickly, your wives will give them back by drawing a cross on your pelvic region. If I catch so much as a whisper that any of you have assaulted, threatened, or harmed your wife in any way, I will be there to take it off with a dagger permanently. Are we understood?” When no one responded, I stood up, glaring down at the men. “I asked you a question.”
All the men nodded, and I slid my eyes over the audience as they exited, leaving one male scrutinizing the others flooding out of the room. He was shorter than most fae and had tri-colored eyes.
I silently observed the man as he approached me, waiting for him to be announced. The clerk turned, staring at the staff I held. I turned to the women, waving my fingers over at their section before slowly moving my attention back to the male, slamming the staff on the ground three more times.
“Jensen Carlson,” the clerk said. “He claims the dragons are eating his family’s livestock and leaving corpses in the wake of their eternal hunger. He also claims one of the dragons has been burning his fields for fun.”