#thread : samuel turlis .

[hxnourbnd]

continued from here !

hatred flared in him. how dare she ridicule him, mock the special bond between him and his king. what did she know of loyalty ? what did she know of the love he held for his monarch, the love he received in return, veiled & invisible as it may seem to those who did not understand ? samuel opened his mouth to snarl a response, but the wind was knocked out of him by a boot cruelly forced beneath his ribs. he doubled over, heaving and spluttering as the breath was knocked out of him. air did not seem to want to find its way back into his lungs, fingers curling into the dirt as he writhed at her feet. never had he wanted to hurt another person more. " his grace works in ways you cannot possibly understand. " the words were spoken in between laboured, wheezing breaths, hatred seeping from every syllable. " he will come for me. "

[hxnourbnd]

continued from here !

his head spun, ears ringing as the guard's latest blow to his face. blood gushed from his nose, dripping into the straw on the floor of his cell as his sat, doubled over, trying to catch his breath. air seeped into his lungs in ragged, laboured breaths, body fighting to stay conscious as hit after hit rang through him. they were still convinced that he would talk, that his lifetime of loyalty to the king would be so easily given up. another blow struck him, and his vision burst apart into pinpricks of white light, the world disappearing for a moment as he squeezed his eyes shut, fighting to regain his bearings in the world. there was a commotion, then, the sound of a door opening and a shuffling right in front of him. samuel shifted back out of instinct, trying to get away from this unknown presence in his cell while his vision still swam. slowly, slowly, she came into focus. the blonde hair, the large, frightened eyes, the thin nightgown clinging to her frame as reached out to touch him. but it couldn't be. " my lady ? " his voice was barely loud enough to be audible, brows knitting together in confusion as he fought to bring the figure in front of him into focus. it couldn't be her, surely. she was supposed to be safe at court, protected by a thousand guards. had they taken her as well ? or was she a figment of his imagination, a sign that the day's beating had broken his mind ? the warm, gentle hands pressed to his cheek told him that she was undoubtedly, irrevocably real. samuel tried to reach out in return, to touch her familiar face, to see if she was hurt. but cruel, short chains cut his movement short, the biting metal digging into his skin. " you shouldn't be here. " he was only half-conscious, still, his whole frame inclining toward her, toward this little piece of home. " you have to run-- you must-- you musn't let them harm you. "

[hxnourbnd]

open to : m / f / nb (21+) connection : anything that fits! feel free to assume any connection. nothing taboo. muse : samuel turlis. 27 y/o. royal executioner and lap dog to a king who doesn't give a shit about him. everyone knows this except samuel. plot : samuel had been captured/cornered/otherwise put at the mercy of y/m, and is being forced/tortured to give information about his king.

there's blood in his mouth. samuel can taste the sickening metal seeping onto his tongue, colouring his teeth scarlet as he bares them at the person in front of him. " i'm not going to tell you a single fucking thing. " surely they didn't actually expect him to break and spill his king's secrets. was he not known for being his most loyal courtier ? his most trusted confidante ? " go on, hit me again. there is nothing you can do to me that will make me talk. "

[hxnourbnd]

his head hurt. a gnawing, pounding pain that battered the inside of his skull, making it difficult to form any thought beyond confusion, beyond hurt. " why ? " it was all he could think to say, fingers curling into the sheets, knotting into the fabric, desperate for something sturdy to hold onto. " why-- why are you holding off on the trial ? " it made no sense. all alina was doing was delaying the inevitable-- the trial, the verdict, the noose. samuel knew better than anyone that the worst part of a hanging was the anticipation of it. the knowing that there was a knotted length of rope waiting to wrap around your neck, to choke the life from you.

he forced himself to look up, eyes meeting hers once more. samuel tried his best to read her gaze, but there was nothing in her eyes that he could place. " what use is it to anyone to wait for me to be healed before your king orders me to hang ? " there was no accusation in his words, no anger. he was far beyond that. samuel had tasted death in florian's throne room, and he knew beyond any doubt that the only way he would leave this court was in her clutches. slowly, he pushed himself upright more, shifting his weight slowly. " there is no information i can give you that would make it worth your while to keep me alive. " it was new, this feeling, so new he had trouble placing it at first. defeat. for the first time in his life, samuel had no king, no country, no loyalty, no duty. nothing at all worth living for.

Alina actually felt sorry for him. There was no pity, no ill-intent in her empathy this time around. She simply, genuinely, wished to take his pain away. The woman smiled a little. She moved to stand from the bed, her skirts flowing slightly. She moved to stand closer to him now, at the head of the bed. Looking down at him, he seemed harmless. Alina figured he was probably lying about not remembering anything, but now, she wasn't so sure.

Her hand shot out, but she stopped herself. "You should not move so much..." The stitches might open. His next question was a fair one. Why did she save him? What did she see in this man, that was worth saving? It was beyond politics now, beyond any sense of duty Alina tried to convince herself of.

"Because unlike Florian, I know your worth." The answer was said slowly. "I do not know what you do and do not remember, but what you need to know is that your king tried to kill you, and threw you out to die in the cold." Her hands returned to her front, clasping one another over her belly. "It's alright, you have the right to ask. And yes, a trial will be held. When you escaped, you pretty much sealed the council's opinions of you as a traitor. But I have convinced his majesty to not go through with the trial yet..."

"And since you are my responsibility, you have been brought here. This is my home, and you will remain here until you are healed." She would keep an eye on him here. The room looked all well and good, but Alina had the windows bolted shut, and the door would be locked from the outside in the night time. It pained her to treat him as a prisoner, but that's what he was.

[hxnourbnd]

dark eyes watched her carefully as she approached, addled mind still trying to make sense of what he was seeing. " i-- " he could recall the memories, had done nothing but play them over and over in his mind since he had awoken. but to recount them to alina, to lay out in such detail the extent to which his king had turned on him, had attempted to slaughter him as though he were an animal-- it was too much to bear. " no, i-- i don't remember anything. " samuel's voice was a hoarse murmur, gaze cast down to his lap as he spoke. " all i know, is that i should not have lived. " his hand moved, pressing to the bandage over his stomach where the knife had torn and clawed its way through flesh and sinew. " why-- why was i saved ? why was i saved by you ? " at that final question he raised his gaze again, finding alina's, the confusion he felt at his survival scrawled all over his features. " will i be expected to stand trial ? for my loyalty to him ? " him. samuel could not bring himself to speak his name. " you will have to excuse my many questions, madame-- i do not understand anything that has happened to me these past days. "

"Did that upset you? The thought of never seeing me again?" The woman teased upon the man's first words to her. Alina had a habit of teasing people, making them flustered with her jokes and gestures. The woman kept her seat at the foot of the bed, unmoving in her attempt to speak to him. Alina noted his eyes, and could swear he was...crying? Something about that idea made her chest ache.

Alina shook her head slowly. "Do you remember anything at all?" She first asked, ignoring his questions. She had doubted her strategy multiple times. Perhaps her trust was misplaced, perhaps he was not as valuable an asset as she thought him to be. Midas was hardly persuaded when Alina claimed he would return, dead or alive. But now, could she convince the king to listen to him?

"The doctors were unsure if you would live..." Alina made no mention of her spy in Florian's court, or who brought Samuel back to the palace. She wanted to hear it from him, to hear this loyal solider admit that the King he so loved, had betrayed him.

[hxnourbnd]

the ache in him went beyond anything he'd ever felt before. when samuel opened his eyes, in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed, he could form no thoughts beyond the pain that seemed to extend into every extremity of his body. the wound in his side felt like it was on fire, stitches biting into the tortured skin that lined it, the damage to his insides screaming at him with every muscle he moved. he tried to get up, quickly abandoned that idea as the agony that shot through him stole his breath away. still, the more supreme form of pain was not medical. it did not come in the form of torn flesh and bloodied bandages. the real pain could be felt only in the depths of his chest, as he turned his last memory of florian over and over. as he lay there, replaying the scene again and again, samuel could not think of a single thing that he ought to have done differently. had he not been loyal enough ? had he not offered himself to his king ? had he not told him all he knew ? hot tears pooled in the corners of his eyes at he memory of florian's expression as he'd driven the knife into him. how full of loathing it had been. at the click of the door, he hastily moved to wipe the tears from his face, though his body ached at the sudden motion. bleary eyes moved over the figure that entered. it was her. he did not think he would ever see her again, nor did he understand why he was seeing her now. dark brows furrowed, looking her up and down. " i thought i would not see you again. " he racked his brain for an explanation for this strange reunion, but could come to none. " why am i here ? did his grace-- did florian turn me over to you ? " had he intended for him to be tortured ? to be punished beyond the wound in his abdomen if he lived ?

"I do not care for him." Alina was quick to correct her friend. "I simply see potential. He can help us find Florian, and bring him to trail. What you have just said could be the very tipping point of the war." The brunette expressed. "Like you said. Samuel was probably his most loyal servant yet, and Florian nearly killed him. Before he escaped, I tried everything to make him see that Florian was no good, but he would not relent. This will change things."

Alina did feel some kind of way for him. It was sad to see someone so devoted to a man, only to be treated like he was nothing but trash. A doll to be thrown away, once you no longer wanted it. To be used, abused and than discarded was one of the worst feelings imaginable. "Doctor, how is he?" Alina than turned to the doctor. The old man sighed. "The wound is deep, but he will live. I will need time to stitch him up properly, and it will leave a nasty scar." The old man wasted no time, and got back to work. The mistress of whispers turned back to Maeve, her hand reaching for hers.

"You must return to him now, and watch yourself. I do not want you to get hurt." Alina rubbed her thumb against Maeve's knuckles. "The tides are changing, my dear. You will see."

---

TIMESKIP - Alina's estate , 3 days later

"My lady." A servant spoke up as he walked into the living room. "He's awake." Alina smiled. A weight had been lifted off her chest. The woman rose up, and made her way to his rooms. Her staff had been informed beforehand of the arrival of Samuel. They were all loyal to Alina, so she need not worry about the whispers. Two servants opened his doors, Alina made her way inside slowly. Another butler followed behind, as a security precaution.

"I though you would not wake up."

[hxnourbnd]

maeve was not in the habit of saving the life of florian's lap dogs. she had seen a string of them pass throughout the years-- some for a night, some for a season. but only samuel had had the tenacity to cling on to his delusions for decades. what had inspired such loyalty in him was beyond her. yet, here she was now, pulling into the courtyard of midas' palace with a half-dead samuel slung over the shoulders of her horse. the things she did for alina. truthfully, she had no idea what alina's infatuation was with him, either. on her list of courtiers who had useful information to share, florian's executioner-slash-lapdog would have been at the very bottom. still, she trusted her friend, and if alina thought it was worth keeping him alive, maeve would be the last person to question her. she disembarked from her horse, feet landing on the dusty earth as alina came out to meet her. " what happened to ' hello ' ? " her arms spread to embrace her friend, holding her against herself for a long moment until she let go, glancing back at samuel's lip form. " he tried to crawl back to florian. " almost as if on cue, samuel let out a low, painful moan. " he thought it was a trick, so, well-- you can see for yourself . " she gestured toward the man's broken form, inviting alina to approach.

Alina had been preparing to leave for her country home. Things had escalated within the last 24 hours. Their prisoner had escaped. Alina had been informed earlier that morning, and was present when they visited the cell. The guard was alive, but bleeding and would be off duty for some time. Of course, the King was not too happy about this. A verbal barrage was thrown towards the mistress of whispers, none that she liked. They were making their way to the front gate.

"My lady!" A sharp whisper came from the side, and Alina looked down to find one of her little birds looking up at her. 'Little birds' that's what her spies were called. "What is it, Fran?" - "Maeve is at the front gate...she's got the prisoner with her." The young spy reported. "But she said only you should come and see..." Alina was stunned. She moved quickly, and walked towards the old arch that made the front gate.

"Maeve, what are you-" Before she could say anything else, her eyes fell to the limp body of Samuel. Blood stained his clothes at the side, a nasty hole was torn into it. Alina swallowed hard, the stench of blood made her stomach turn. "What happened?"

[hxnourbnd]

samuel barely felt the blade over the hurt caused by florian's words. they knocked the breath out of him, stomach twisting as he listened to the man he had given everything to turn on him. what had he done wrong ? it was the only question in his mind, lips moving too slow to counter his accusations before he sank the knife into his gut. he had risen when florian had, and now they stood almost chest to chest, samuel's eyes wide and terrified as they bored into florian's. a horrible, choking sound fell from his lips, pearling his chin with flood as the dagger was withdrawn. " your grace-- " it was all he could manage before his knees gave way, connecting with the hard floor as he crumpled down onto it. nobody would come to his rescue, he knew. the ministers would not dare risk their necks to try to save his life. samuel had landed face down on the ground, cheeks pressed tiles as he felt his abdomen grow slick with blood. he had clasped a hand over it, but it did little to stem the bleeding, crimson liquid instead seeping between his fingers. the world was going blurry, florian's voice far away, though he could still make out the words. get him out of here. his king was going to let him die in the streets like a dog. something close to anger surged in him at the realisation, though it was quickly overtaken by the ache in his heart and the mind-splitting pain in his gut. two pairs of hands grasped his arms, dragging him out of the throne room. his vision was going, but he didn't have to look to know that he was leaving a trail of scarlet in his wake. samuel was thrown into the muddy road unceremoniously, palace doors closing with an unforbiding slam before he could turn. he didn't know how long he lay there, bleeding into the dirt, fighting to stay conscious. he began hallucinating at some point, stars popping in front of his eyes, waves of iridescent light crashing over him. an angel hung over him in the end, blond locks framing her face, gentle hands touching his arm, telling him to hang on. everything went black.

"I did want you back here, with something useful! I don't need second hand information the damn baker can tell me!" The prince continued to shout. The ministers remained uncomfortable in their silence. Florian walked around his seat, hands going through his hair. Sweat covered his brow, his heart pounded rapidly in his chest. There was a voice in the back of his mind. He could've said something. The voice said. They could've let him go, just so he can spy on me for them. His own paranoia had crept in long ago. Like a spider making it's web in a corner, Florian's fears manifested in the voice of his conscious. Florian must never fear, nobody should know he had fears.

"Yes, because you told them!" The sudden accusation got the reaction of the rest. "Your Grace, what sort of accusation are you making?" Lord Colt asked. "They probably let him out because he knew where we were staying, so that they can attack us! He most likely betrayed us in there! Look at him, he hasn't eaten for weeks and you want me to think he didn't talk?!"

"Your Grace-" Before anyone could do anything, Florian had his dagger dug into Samuel's side. The room fell silent after the chorus of gasps ended. Florian could hear the blood dripping onto the floor. "You were my most loyal companion, and you betrayed me..." Florian sounded almost sad...almost heartbroken. The dagger was buried deep inside the skin of the man, the handle also stained crimson. Florian aimed without any real target. His only wish was to cause pain. The prince pulled the weapon out, and took a step back. "Get him out of here."

[hxnourbnd]

the whole world screeched to a halt. it felt as if he had been struck round the head, ears ringing, cheeks burning, vision swimming. florian was all he had been thinking about for the last days. weeks even. every word he had spoken, every action, every thought had been focussed on bringing him back here, to florian. at the sound of the smashing glass, samuel cringed, ducking away from the king's rage as if he were a frightened child. samuel was bigger than florian, stronger, more skilled in battle, yet he cowered in the face of his anger like the most loyal of guard dogs, too well-trained to as much as bare his teeth. " please, your grace-- " he felt foolish. why hadn't he brought florian the whisper woman's head ? samuel looked up, catching the piercing blue gaze of the sister sitting opposite him. her eyes seemed to burn right through him, as if she was somehow aware of the thought before it had even fully formed in his head. quickly, dark eyes were cast back down to the tiles under his knees. " i--i thought you wanted me back here. " his voice was weak, a soft, pathetic sound in the face of the king's rage, his disappointment. his cheeks burned red-hot with shame at florian's disapproval, shoulders curling to make himself as small as possible. " forgive me, your grace. " an old mantra, words so familiar to him they followed him into his dreams sometimes, sprang from his lips now. it was not enough. what he had so often dreamed of in that cold dark cell came to pass. florian touched him, but rather than the gentle, intimate touches of his fantasies, his hands only found samuel's frame to push him back, cruelly. the force if it sent him tumbling back over the cold floor. he was up again in a second, returning to the king's side as if his right wrist didn't pound in pain, the shock of the fall having absorbed into the delicate bones of his hand. he found his familiar place by the king's side, though the starry-eyed look in his dark eyes had been replaced by something laced with barely concealed hurt. " i think-- i fear, your grace, that they will find you here. i heard the way they speak of you, the disrespect, the blasphemous words they utter about you. i fear they will not hesitate to harm your grace, when given the chance. "

A common misconception about the former King was that he was nothing more than a shallow charlatan with no battle prowess or mind for finances. While Florian indulged in his every whim and desire, he wasn't stupid. Before he was King, he lead armies in skirmishes and battles that came out victorious. The prince had a thirst for blood, just as much as he had for fine wines. And he would win back his throne, and then mount the heads of the traitors on spikes.

The summer palace proved to be a good refugee for Florian and his supporters. What he did not expect was Samuel to bust down that door. Truthfully, Florian thought the fool was dead. Before the blonde could speak, the dark haired man was perched upon his armrest like some annoying bird. "You think I don't know this?" Florian asked with a disinterested glare. The prince got up from his seat, and all ministers around him tensed up. Florian grabbed a glass and chucked it to the stone wall, at the mention of the Mistress of whispers. "I know! That bitch is the reason they were able to kick me out in the first place!"

"I can tell you'd been tortured. You look like shit." The room was heavy with anxiety. Ministers avoided eye contact, all except the sister of the church seated at her end of the table. Than, as if out of the blue, Florian grabbed Samuel by the collar of his shirt. "Why didn't you kill him?! Or her?! You had them right there, you could've taken care of the problem!"

"Your grace, is that really nec-" A minister tried to say. "Shut up!" Florian shouted before turning back to glare at Samuel. "What good are you to me, if you can't act?" Florian shoved the other man away with all his might, his upper arms flexed at the motion. "I'm surrounded by idiots. Chickens with no heads," He pointed to the minsters "A useless mut," He pointed towards Samuel. Than he pointed towards sister Maeve Thindrel. "And a nun. This is how I am to take my throne back."

[hxnourbnd]

samuel crumpled to the floor the moment his shackles were undone, his frame too weakened to stay upright without the harsh metal keeping him in place. he did not look at the woman again before she left, though his anger at her words roiled within him long after she had gone. the food was eaten quickly, hungrily, water spilling down his chin as he threw back the cup he had been given. finally, he was able to think clearly. he had to get out. he had to warn the king of these traitors, of their mock-court, the usurper who seemed so sure of the outcome of this conflict. samuel bided his time, nursing his raw wrists and sore shoulders, slumping against the rough walls whenever a guard passed the barred door of his cell. they grew careless, after a while, convinced he was dying or ill or both. the door was left open for longer, hips carrying keys turned toward him instead of away. at the perfect moment, in the dead of night, samuel pounced. executioner's hands slammed the guard's head into the brick wall of the cell. he was the smallest of the guards, a young man clearly trying hard to grow a beard and failing. he slumped to the ground with ease, chest still rising and falling when samuel bent down to take his keys. someone would find him soon enough. the palace was a maze, but by some miracle he managed to find his way to the stables, where he bridled and saddled the first horse he encountered, a grey, strong-looking mare. he rode. long & fast & hard, samuel drove the mare down the same path he knew florian had travelled, to the banks of lake glamlisle, where a grand summer palace now concealed and housed florian and his court. he had refused to hide out anywhere less comfortable than this place, which belonged to a friendly duke away on trade business. samuel did not reign in the horse, galloping it through the gates and past the guards, until he had reached the centre courtyard of the summer palace. the guards posted at the doors recognised him, giving him wide-eyed, astonished looks as he rushed past them and into the throne room, where a still sleepy-looking florian sat conversing with his ministers. his heart surged. " your grace. " his voice was not as steady as he would have liked, barely-concealed elation at his reuniting with florian shaking his words. samuel fell to his knees by his seat, fingers gripping the armrest as he spoke in quick, rushed sentences. " your grace-- i-- you must listen to me. " he had never been this forceful with florian before, but these were desperate times. " your brother-- midas-- he has erected a mock-court not but half a day's ride from here. he means to usurp you throne. he meant to torture me, to-- to force me to reveal your whereabouts. " samuel swallowed, hard. the ride and the exertion it took had drained him. " he has a mistress of whispers, your grace. he has tasked her with finding you. "

"Your life." Alina said simply. "I can speak with the King, when the time comes for Florian to stand judgement, your punishment will be lenient." Exile. It was the only possibility, other than death. Florian would be put to the sword as soon as he was captured, after being tried for his crimes that is. But any supporter of his should comply with the crown, they would be tried differently.

"Is the safety of one man more valuable than your own?" Alina questioned, now clearly confused. The man before her was an anomaly. In all her years, she had seen lovers throw each other to the wolves, should it mean their lives remained in tact. But not him...he was just willing to give it all away for a man who did not even deserve it. Why did that make her so angry?

"I know that pig well enough to tell your sacrifice will be in vain." The woman spat, her own feelings evident now. Samuel had managed to make a crack in her frontier, but Alina quickly composed herself. "Your king has the blood of thousands of people on his hands, yet you choose not to see it." She continued. "You're a fool. And let me make this clear, I am not in the habit of letting prisoners die. I can keep you here, alive but in pain." A guard and a maid entered the room, the cell bars squealing. The guard remained at the door, as the maid placed a tray of food and water in the corner. The guard than moved, keys in hand. Alina moved towards the door, before giving the man one final glance. The guard was undoing the shackles that kept his wrists up.

"I would think long and hard about the man you chose to be loyal to. And I expect an answer when I come visit you."

[hxnourbnd]

alina's words were poison. he saw her plan now, clear as day. it was not the cold that was meant to torture him, not the hunger or the thirst or the aching pain in his body. it were these words that she had designed to break him. what cruelty, to lodge a blade of this making into his chest. samuel scowled at her, muscles tensing as if trying to break free from his unforgiving bonds. " you know nothing of the things you speak about, woman. " he spat the words at her, her gaze as hard and cold as the winter chill seeping in from the outside. " his grace loves me. he just-- he has to do it in private, where traitors like you can't see what he's really like. how good he is. how gentle, how-- how beautiful. " samuel faltered, then. florian had never been gentle with him. but he knew he could be, had fantasized about feeling his king's gentle hands brush against his skin, curl into the nape of his neck. samuel knew it could happen, if only the right moment presented itself.

at the woman's offer, his lip curled, head shaking before she had finished speaking. " how could you possibly help me ? " alina was trying to take everything from him, framing it has help. this was part of the torture, he reminded himself. she had twisted the knife, and now she was promising him the pain would stop if only he would comply. " you want me to betray my king. you-- you want me to give up everything that gives my life meaning. "

Alina listened to every word he expressed. Was it the delirium from the cold, or the hunger that made him loosen his tongue? No matter, whatever it was it was working. Alina let go of his chin when he was done, but her eyes remained on him. "That's sweet, isn't it?" The woman took a step back, her gaze finally leaving the man and looking out the window. It was a small passage to the outside world. The cell had a nice view of the sea, but let the cold in. They were in the early months of winter, and the cold crept through any crack it could find. "You may believe your King is a good monarch, but I can assure you it is quite the opposite. He would tell you whatever he wanted, to make you believe in his competence, Samuel."

Alina thought back to when Florian was still King. She was part of the council than, but Florian seldom heard her council. Alina believed it had something to do with her gender, that Florian refused to be counseled by a woman. It didn't matter much, since Alina spent most of her time away from court. When she was there though, she caught glimpses of Samuel here and there. They never spoke, until the fateful day he was captured.

Alina made eye contact. "Let me say this. Your love is an unrequited fantasy, and Florian could not care less if you lived or died. It's who he is." Venom laced her tongue as she expressed. "You said it yourself, you are his servant. And all servants are expendable to him." Alina recalled the terror the staff lived in whenever it was time to entertain Florian's many balls and festivities. The old King had once broken a glass against the head of a butler, causing him to bleed. "But I can help you. I can help you get out of this unscathed, if you just help me."

[hxnourbnd]

her fingers were warm on his skin. he hadn't noticed, really, how cold he had become, but now that the heat of her fingertips seeped into him, the rest of his frame felt as if it had been dunked in ice water. he could only look at her, dark eyes trained on hers as her words reignited the hatred he felt for her. " who are you to decide where my loyalties must lie ? " samuel jerked at his chains, rattling the metal, trying to slip free. the unforgiving iron did not budge, but he managed to yank his chin out of her grasp, at least. " of course i admire him. " his words sounded too raw, too defensive. the fatigue, the strain on his body, the hunger-- they had taken their toll. no longer could he hide the raw emotions that lurked just beneath his surface whenever he spoke of his king. " he is a good ruler, he-- he-- he takes care of his people. he takes care of me. " he should stop talking, he knew, but samuel found himself unable to stop the words tumbling from his lips. " he told me-- he told me i was his most trusted servant. me. no one else. he looked at every person in his court and he saw the truth, he saw that i was most devoted to him. " a muscle in his jaw twitched. he was fighting against himself now, struggling to keep his voice even and failing. " and he has rewarded me handsomely for it. " here, he managed to stop himself, keeping his most precious, private memory to himself, unwilling to share it with the woman who had become his torturer. florian had kissed him. it had happened only once, and the king had tasted of wine & grease & tobacco, but it had happened. florian loved him. " there is nothing you can do to make me forget where i belong. " at florian's side. no-- at his feet.

"Do you?" Alina inquired with a small smile on her face. She entered the threshold and was met with the metallic scent of blood. Alina never did the dirty work herself. Her dear friend and fellow spy joked that she was a proper, pampered lady. Never getting her silks dirty. The guards were instructed to remain at the end of the hall, as the conversation about to be had needed to remain private. "Perhaps...but I do not put my value on which King I serve, so I think I'll be able to live with that." She was lying, of course. No matter how much she said otherwise, she cared for her reputation. Her pride, her dignity, they were all things she valued. If she didn't have that, if she didn't have the respect of the King and the court, what else was there?

Alina stood in front of him now. Her hand reached up, hooking her fingers under his chin to make him look at her. She could tell the torture was working. He seemed tired, dehydrated and hungry. His eyes had lost some of that mischievous glint she'd seen before. "I must say though, your loyalty is admirable...even if it's misplaced." She mused. Samuel had beautiful eyes, she must admit. Dark pools, she could not tell where his iris ended and his pupil began.

"You admire your King very much, don't you? Despite everything he had done?"

[hxnourbnd]

she meant to break him. she was so sure of it, so confident in her abilities to crack samuel in two. what a fool she would seem in front of her usurper, when it became clear to all that she had underestimated the fierceness of his devotion. samuel fantasised about it, about the shame colouring the wretched woman's cheeks as the hours passed in the cold, dark cell. they had strung him up, wrists chained to the ceiling, forcing him to balance on the balls of his feet. the earthy scent of rot surrounded him, blending with the metallic smell of his own blood as it drip-drip-dripped from his nose to the ground. a courtesy of the guards who had taken him away from the throne room. they left him there for a long time, dangling until all feeling went from his fingers, until the hunger turned to pain in his stomach, the thirst turning his throat to sandpaper. samuel fought to keep his chin high, refusing to give the occasional guards that passed the satisfaction of seeing him weakened, but eventually he could fight it no longer. his head dropped, dark hair obscuring his vision in between the bouts of unconsciousness that took him. samuel opened his eyes, unaware of the time that had passed and the hour of the day. but something was different. there was another presence in the room. he could feel it, the change in the air, the existence of another warm body in the room with him. he raised his head, tired eyes blinking against the torch light that had not previously been there. it was her. pristine and beautiful, looking at him, dirtied and bloodied, no doubt considering how best to torture him. " i pity you. " an echo of the words she had spoken to him, thrown back in her face with as cruel an edge as samuel could manage. his voice was raw, syllables scraping up the sides of his throat. " you will disappoint your king, alina. that is a shame you will have to carry for the rest of your life. "

Many names were placed upon the new King once he took the city back. Usurper. Pretender. False King. Alina had to hand it to Florian, his own network of spies was formidable. The people had their share of nicknames for Florian as well, due to the famine he caused. Florian the Greedy. The Cruel. Pig.

If his presence didn't cause uproar before, his proclamation did now. Alina could tell Midas was annoyed by such words, but his face remained stern. The King worked in silencing the crowd again, more judge than monarch now. "My apologies. I just figured due to your loyal service, my brother would've knighted you by now." The young King mocked, before going back to the task at hand. Midas was but two years younger than Alina, but still that same teenage like egoism was within him. Alina cleared her throat, eyes falling to Samuel.

"The original sentencing for you, Turlis, was death. But my mistress of whispers has argued otherwise." With that, Alina rose to her feet. Some people gasped, some people scoffed as if to say 'how dare she suggest such a thing?'

"Madame, why should I not put this man to death?" The King inquired. "Because we gain nothing from it." Alina began. "Here, we have perhaps the only man who knows where Florian is hiding. Due to his years of loyal service, he knows how the man operates." Lord Bathory, master of laws spoke up then. "Lady Kovalenko, as much as I understand your point of view, who is to say that this man will break for sure?" Before she could answer, another lord by the name of Horatio spoke up. "And what are we to do, should he not give in?" All fair questions.

"A man can break sooner or later. We are not built to sustain long forms of torture or anguish, my lords. I believe I can make him speak." Alina than turned to lord Horatio. "As for that possibility, my lord, we simply hang the man for the traitor that he is and explore other avenues of inquiry." Alina returned to her seat, and when asked by his Majesty if all were in agreement, surprisingly all were. "Lady Kovalenko, I will allow this to pass but with the condition that Samuel Turlis is your responsibility. He is still a political prisoner, remember that."

[hxnourbnd]

samuel was not used to keeping his head high. he was not a proud man, felt most at ease at his king's side, head bowed, eyes cast to the ground until florian spared him a moment of attention, a word, a glance. it was enough. ( or so he told himself, anyway. ) but here, now, samuel jutted his chin into the air, shoulders pushed back as far as the guards with their iron grips would allow him. he represented his king here, embodied the pride and strength of his reign at this phony court of traitors and fools. he looked around, trying to drink in all of their faces. a few, here and there, were familiar faces. an old advisor. a distant cousin of the royal family. the false king, with his ridiculous crown that made him look like a child playing dress-up. and her. his eyes found her without even meaning to, catching her gaze for a moment before dull metal connected with the backs of his knees and he dropped to the ground. he was engulfed by sound, taunts and insults flying at him from the lips of every dignified member of the court. he had heard worse. samuel straightened up as much as he could, staring the false king down with every shred of defiance he could muster. at midas' words, a grimace tugged on his features. " i am no ser. " his words were nearly a hiss, lips curling as he rejected the other's attempt at respectability. " i am not of noble blood. i have no land to my name. " dark eyes scanned the crowd, accusatory and unforgiving. " i serve the king because he is a great man. " at his words, the crowd erupted once more, and samuel raised his voice to make himself heard over the noise. " my only crime is being a good and loyal servant to the true king of this country ! he has more honour in his little finger than any of you can hope to ever have in a lifetime serving him ! " his final word was directed at minas, underlined by mouthful of blood, still seeping from one of his loosened teeth, spat at the feet of the usurper.

Alina said nothing. She moved quickly to get away from him line of reach, before the guards grabbed him. She did not expect him to actually lunge at her. He took slanders to the former King personally, it would seem. Alina heard rumors about the two of them. How King Florian need only point at someone, lie that they had been insulting him or are traitors to the crown, and their heads would roll. Alina kept a distance from the court at the time, so her rumors all came from her network of spies within the palace.

The King's loyal hound. Florian's dog.

There were other rumors, of a much more scandalous nature. Whispers said the King had taken Samuel as a lover, or something of the sort. Something romantic happened between the two of them, but at that point, Alina ceased to listen to them. But perhaps, they were not all incorrect. "I pity you, I really do." That was all she said, before commanding the guards to drag him out of the cell.

The throne room was bustling with nobles. Politicians took their corner, religious figures took to theirs, scholars scattered in between. King Midas sat on his throne. Gold cape rested over his shoulders, the golden crown of his forefathers rested upon his head. "Royal Advisor and Mistress of Whispers, Alina Kovalenko!" The announcer shouted and the noise settled. Alina took her place next to the other Council members. The announcer cleared his throat.

"The case presented. The executioner and traitor to the Realm, Samuel Turlis!" That's when the real shouting began. Nobles were outraged as the man was presented in front of the King. A guard shoved his sword to the back of his knee. "Get on your knees!" The man shouted at Samuel. Midas rose his left hand, and the mocking and shouting ceased. The King than spoke. "Ser Turlis, what do you have to say for yourself?"

[hxnourbnd]

samuel lunged at her. a furious cry left him as dirtied fingernails clawed at the woman, teeth baring in a snarl as if he were some wild thing, held back by the strong hands of the guards that caught him mind-strike. he wanted to tear her to shreds, to make her hurt for the way she spoke of florian. the thought of his king executed, murdered by the vermin that plotted to overthrow him, to take his throne and plunge the entire country into darkness, filled him with a rage so strong he saw red. but he had been weakened, beaten, starved. try as he might, samuel couldn't tear himself free from the grip of the guards, though he threw his weight against their hold again and again. at last, he relented, frenzied motions calming as he found that the woman was looking at him. samuel looked back, dark eyes doing nothing to hide the loathing burning within them. she was beautiful, that much was impossible to deny. but it did not make him hate her any less. at her statement, his lips curled, relishing the words as the rolled off his tongue. " i look forward to slipping a noose around your neck, traitor, when the king comes to strike you all down. "

"And when he does, he will be imprisoned and executed like the murderer he is." Alina openly slandered the royal family at times. Not when it wasn't deserved, of course. The woman rose up, hands dusting off her skirts. She wanted to laugh at this pathetic notion of hope Samuel had, but more pressing matters called. "Pick him up." The guards moved within a second of the command. Metal hands gripped his arms, and pulled up. "His majesty wishes to see you in the throne room. I do believe your judgment is today."

Alina took a good look at the prisoner. He was quite the looker, if not for the fact that he was King Florian's loyal dog. There was no man Alina hated more than the old King, who was more child than man. Thousands died under his rule, even more starved and fell to the mercy of winter. Her advice fell on deaf ears. The treasury was drained, and everyone suffered. "Samuel, if there is something you want to say, you must say it now. I cannot get you back in this cell, after your verdict passes." Alina had her own plans, of course. She always did.

The new king was a man named Midas. Second son of King Frederick, and younger half-brother of Florian. A man fit to be King. Alina had presented her plan before his Majesty, but now she had to present it before the council of lords. Hopefully, all went according to plan.