The judgment chamber had not yet emptied when the doors creaked open once more.
Marcus strode in, his hand clamped around a chain.
Dragged behind him, thin and haggard, was the Empress.
Once the jewel of the palace, she now looked a ghost of herself; hollow, dull and lifeless.
Yet even in disgrace, her chin was high, her eyes flashing defiance.
Marcus shoved her forward, and the chains clattered against the stone floor as she stumbled to her knees.
Alaric's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "Empress Elle of Eldoria, you stand accused of treachery against this Empire, and against me, its Regent Emperor."
Murmurs could be heard from around the hall.
Many were confused.
"You attempted to murder my wife, Rose Daphne, three separate times. The last left her injured." His jaw clenched, his voice tightening as his eyes burned. "You poisoned the Emperor's consorts, stripping this Empire of its hope for heirs, and sought to shatter its future."
