"Guards!"
Whein and the frustrated Kirth were separated. They felt the raw strength of the guards, who, without so much a semblance of pity, rushed with curled fists. It was no pleasant sight to see – someone's eye could have been taken out. A feeling of edginess remained.
"Has your side settled?"
"Yes," Whein cleared his throat, "-Kirth's actions were unforgivable."
So, the conversation continued. Igna took a reserved attitude after the outburst, the opposition grew more conversational; sometimes dropping into meaningless rants. Whein's nervous chuckle and 'all-over-the-place,' stares were quite amusing as commented by Frederick.
"My liege," said the pope, Igna's waning interest sparked. A glance to the side showed Kirth gagged and bound at a guard's feet. '-Poor puppy,' he shook his head mildly, "-Whein, we're past the point of no return. The last incident," he brought what they didn't want to confront.
"The king's going there?"
