<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;"><span style="color: #FFBFBF">Sintrina Acantha</span></span></div><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #FFBFBF">Queen Sintrina</span></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: center;"><a class="postlink" href="http://obraz-women.ru/sites/default/files/shutterstock_82491346-1.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/>Sintrina eyed Kira suspiciously as she left with the guard. She trusted the girl would get the job done, but her motivation seemed to run deeper than saving her ass from a few sex slaves. The girl was planning something, but Sintrina would deal with that later. She wanted her daughter back first and foremost.<br/><br/>The slender woman walked over to Isolde, looking down at her with something akin to love.<span style="color: #FFBFBF">"I'm sorry, Isolde,"</span>she said quietly where only her sister could hear. She knew that Isolde hated to send Carrie out anywhere, but it was time that she let her go and explore the world. Contempt was building in that child and it would only come back to haunt Isolde if she did not let her free at some point. What better way that to save the Princess? She would be considered a hero and Sintrina had plenty of faith that the girl would come back in one piece. However, looking at the face of her sister, she knew that the woman was likely upset.<br/><br/>She reached out to let her hand rest on one of Isolde's. It was common knowledge that the Queen had only ever displayed any sort of affection towards her sister. Even her husband and daughter did not receive the rare tenderness of the Queen in public as Isolde did, and even the affection Isolde had was subtle.<span style="color: #FFBFBF">"I can cancel the agreement with Kira, if you desire..."</span>she offered, voice still low and soft. Before she could say much else, though, she heard a body fall to the ground. She whirled around only to see that Deanna had collapsed in a dead faint, into Donna's arms. The woman looked as if she could barely hold herself up, so it was no surprise to see that she had sunk to her knees with Deanna in her arms.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FFBFBF">"Oh for shit's sake! Get the hell out of my sight! You have a job to do!"</span>the Queen snarled out, an arm angrily swinging out to point towards the door. The guards rushed forward, helping Donna with Deanna and rushing her along. The Queen turned back to Isolde, her hands clench the side of the desk and her body ridged as she took deep, calming breaths. She was furious and the stress from the day was mounting. Kira had sad something about the malfunction likely causing Freya pain instead of controlling her. Sintrina clenched her jaw, angry at that news. Freya was likely back to her old self, tired, confused, unaware of anything that had occurred, and with pains in her head. This was not what Sintrina had wanted at all, but these were the consequences that had come about. She could only imagine how scared and emotional Freya was, and it hurt her heart to know that.<br/><br/>But what could she do? She had tried to keep Freya safe by implementing these controls over her--she had trusted Deanna and Donna's work, and now she was going to pay greatly for it. The Princess was out in the wild and the pain monitors had shown Freya's levels as off the chart at one point. It terrified her. Most only ever faced that sort of pain right before death--they had thousands of records to prove that much. She took another breath, but Freya had not died. At least, she hadn't heard news of it. In fact, she hadn't heard much news outside of what had been delivered just then.<br/><br/>Her form began slump some and a slave came over with a chair, once more trying to offer a seat to the Queen. This time she took it, giving a clipped thanks and letting herself fall into it. Her daughter was out there somewhere with a hunter who likely hated Freya's guts, with unexplained pain and no memory of what has occurred. Sintrina gave a woeful sigh, letting her head rest on her right hand, her elbow propped on the arm of the chair she sat in.<span style="color: #FFBFBF">"This is quite the mess--if Mikale ever finds out, I'll never hear the end of it,"</span>she mumbled softly, her chin threatening to wobble as her eyes became glassy. It didn't matter if Mikale found out or not, she just rather not have the head ache of dealing with it. She waved her hand and everyone left the room, slaves and guards alike. The only people left were her and Isolde, and she felt safe to let her feelings show.<br/><br/>She was clearly exhausted and it was taking everything in her not to cry. She only wanted what was best for Freya--why could Mikale not see that? She gave a shuddering breath, looking to Isolde,<span style="color: #FFBFBF">"I'm sorry," </span>she repeated, though whether it was for sending Carrie out or simply because she was showing weakness was uncertain.