12-07-2023, 04:53 AM
Lumiere, Auria
“He's here, Your Majesty.”
The voice of her chief of staff Celēn Duprē caused Queen Katherina of Auria to look up from the reports scattered on her desk. She put an ink pen back in its holder and stood, her face filled with an unspeakable emotion.
“They captured him alive?”
“Yes, my Queen. During the siege, most of his remaining forces defected once they ran out of resources or saw the true size of our forces. He was found in a shop basement and was shot and injured before he could reach for his firearm.” Duprē glanced downwards. “Are you sure that you want to see him, face to face?”
“I'm positive.”
—
Andrew Laurent-Ćordonnier dragged his feet as the large group of soldiers “guided” (dragged) him through a plain hallway. He could feel the wound in his leg throbbing and the handcuffs digging into his wrists with every step that he took. Where in the world are we? This doesn't look like a prison. The exterior was far too old, and they brought me in through what looked like a service entrance. Where are we?
The soldier at the head of the pack opened a side door, forcing the prisoner in before he could read the sign by the door. In the room, there was very little furniture, only a chair and some harsh fluorescent lights. So it's a torture chamber. At least they'll let me sit down. “You sure this is the right room, soldier? Normally, prisoners at least get some sort of table or desk in their cell. Is that too much to ask?”
Without a word, two soldiers forced him down to his knees. A wave of red-hot pain ran through his thigh, causing him to groan. “Was that really necessary, you bastards? You'd think that spineless royalists like you would at least have a little respect for-” He trailed off as the door opened, revealing an unmistakable young woman. “Well.” That's where we are. We're in the service level of the Palace.
“Andrew.” The Queen stared her cousin down, a barely contained fury in her eyes. “You've fallen far.”
“And you've risen much farther up than you're ready for. Congratulations on the promotion, by the way. If you see Berenstein, you should thank her.”
Katherina gritted her teeth. “You piece of shit. I can't wait to see what the Angels have in store for you.” She slowly paced back and forth, never once looking away from the prisoner. “Although, we might give them a run for their money.”
Laurent-Ćordonnier let out a bitter, breathless laugh. “You can't do anything. You pathetic liberals don't have the stomach for any punishment that would-”
With a nod from the Queen, two of the soldiers pushed Andrew on his face as he was speaking and bent his arms up as high as possible. The former royal could feel his tendons and muscles straining, until he felt his left shoulder shift out of its socket. He cried out in pain, vainly trying to pull his arms out of the grasp of his captors. After what felt like an eternity, the soldiers let go, and the former Aurian autocrat went limp on the ground.
“You don't know the first thing about me. Right now, I am in the position to do whatever I want to you, and the only protests that I would hear would be from people who would want to kill you themselves.” The Queen slowly walked around Andrew's limp body before, in one fluid motion, using the heel of her boot to stomp down hard on his injured leg, causing a new series of groans and cries. “Welcome to the new Auria, cousin. You have no one to blame but yourself.” She looked up to the soldiers, who had placed themselves in between her and the prisoner. “Get him to a medic for his shoulder, and then bring him back. We're not holding him in a prison. He's staying here.” She straightened her coat as she walked towards the door.
“It's about time that the ancient dungeons in the basement saw some use again.”
“He's here, Your Majesty.”
The voice of her chief of staff Celēn Duprē caused Queen Katherina of Auria to look up from the reports scattered on her desk. She put an ink pen back in its holder and stood, her face filled with an unspeakable emotion.
“They captured him alive?”
“Yes, my Queen. During the siege, most of his remaining forces defected once they ran out of resources or saw the true size of our forces. He was found in a shop basement and was shot and injured before he could reach for his firearm.” Duprē glanced downwards. “Are you sure that you want to see him, face to face?”
“I'm positive.”
—
Andrew Laurent-Ćordonnier dragged his feet as the large group of soldiers “guided” (dragged) him through a plain hallway. He could feel the wound in his leg throbbing and the handcuffs digging into his wrists with every step that he took. Where in the world are we? This doesn't look like a prison. The exterior was far too old, and they brought me in through what looked like a service entrance. Where are we?
The soldier at the head of the pack opened a side door, forcing the prisoner in before he could read the sign by the door. In the room, there was very little furniture, only a chair and some harsh fluorescent lights. So it's a torture chamber. At least they'll let me sit down. “You sure this is the right room, soldier? Normally, prisoners at least get some sort of table or desk in their cell. Is that too much to ask?”
Without a word, two soldiers forced him down to his knees. A wave of red-hot pain ran through his thigh, causing him to groan. “Was that really necessary, you bastards? You'd think that spineless royalists like you would at least have a little respect for-” He trailed off as the door opened, revealing an unmistakable young woman. “Well.” That's where we are. We're in the service level of the Palace.
“Andrew.” The Queen stared her cousin down, a barely contained fury in her eyes. “You've fallen far.”
“And you've risen much farther up than you're ready for. Congratulations on the promotion, by the way. If you see Berenstein, you should thank her.”
Katherina gritted her teeth. “You piece of shit. I can't wait to see what the Angels have in store for you.” She slowly paced back and forth, never once looking away from the prisoner. “Although, we might give them a run for their money.”
Laurent-Ćordonnier let out a bitter, breathless laugh. “You can't do anything. You pathetic liberals don't have the stomach for any punishment that would-”
With a nod from the Queen, two of the soldiers pushed Andrew on his face as he was speaking and bent his arms up as high as possible. The former royal could feel his tendons and muscles straining, until he felt his left shoulder shift out of its socket. He cried out in pain, vainly trying to pull his arms out of the grasp of his captors. After what felt like an eternity, the soldiers let go, and the former Aurian autocrat went limp on the ground.
“You don't know the first thing about me. Right now, I am in the position to do whatever I want to you, and the only protests that I would hear would be from people who would want to kill you themselves.” The Queen slowly walked around Andrew's limp body before, in one fluid motion, using the heel of her boot to stomp down hard on his injured leg, causing a new series of groans and cries. “Welcome to the new Auria, cousin. You have no one to blame but yourself.” She looked up to the soldiers, who had placed themselves in between her and the prisoner. “Get him to a medic for his shoulder, and then bring him back. We're not holding him in a prison. He's staying here.” She straightened her coat as she walked towards the door.
“It's about time that the ancient dungeons in the basement saw some use again.”
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