With a disgusted hiss, Bree jumped down, her boots slamming against the dirt.
She swung her hand viciously, smacking the back of her puppet's head.
The man collapsed instantly to his knees, forehead pressing into the earth. His voice trembled, desperate and fearful. "I—I'm sorry, my queen!"
But the words only stoked the fire in her chest.
"Shut up," she spat, her voice sharp, venom dripping from every syllable. "Disgusting."
Her fists clenched tight at her sides, her nails digging into her palms again. Her teeth ground together as she glared down at the puppet, veins dancing along her temples.
"I want him…" she whispered, voice heavy with obsession. "Only him…"
A manic smile stretched across her face. Her hands shot up, clutching at her own cheeks as though to contain the madness brimming inside her.
She chuckled, low at first, then higher, more frenzied.
The remaining puppets shuffled back toward her, forming a wall of hollow devotion, but she paid them no mind.
