"You are mistaken, ma'am," Solvane said, his voice trembling slightly as he tried to maintain a facade of calm authority.
"Ma'am?" Roxanne snapped angrily, her eyes narrowing into slits of fury. The word hung in the air like a slap, echoing off the damp stone walls of the bathing chamber.
From somewhere in the shadows, a muffled voice—perhaps one of the other women—hissed in disbelief. "What are you doing, you fool? Calling a woman like her ma'am? Have you lost your mind?"
High above on the roof, hidden in the gloom of the rafters, Fil's stomach twisted into knots of dread. He clutched at his disheveled hair, pulling at the strands as if that could somehow pull him out of this nightmare. Muttering frantically to himself, he whispered, "If he wasn't going to die before, he's definitely going to die now. This is a disaster."
Down below, Solvane kept both hands raised high in the air, palms outward in a desperate gesture to show he meant no harm. But the suffocating pressure emanating from the group of women didn't ease one bit. It was like an invisible storm cloud pressing down on him, thick with malice and indignation. He even caught sight of the young girl he had been discreetly eyeing earlier; she was now wrapping her slender arms tightly around herself, her face contorted in a mix of awkward disgust and fear, her glare piercing him like daggers.
"Curse you, old man," Solvane muttered under his breath, directing his silent ire at some distant figure from his past—perhaps his stern father or a meddlesome advisor. He sighed heavily, the weight of the situation settling on his shoulders like a leaden cloak. "What did I ever do to deserve this? All I wanted was a quiet evening, not... this."
Roxanne, the apparent leader of the women, tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a cold, predatory smile. "You don't seem to know the kind of trouble you're in," she said icily, her voice slicing through the tension like a sharpened blade. She took a deliberate step forward, her bare feet silent on the wet tiles, closing the distance between them with unnerving grace.
In a blur of motion too fast for Solvane to react, her hand shot out like a striking cobra and clamped around his throat. Her grip was ironclad, crushing with a strength that belied her elegant frame. Solvane's head lolled helplessly to the side, his vision blurring as he struggled for air. In his disoriented state, his eyes wandered downward, landing where they absolutely shouldn't—on the curve of her chest, barely concealed by the thin fabric of her bathing attire.
"Why am I having déjà vu all of a sudden?" he croaked out, his voice strained and raspy, his gaze still fixed in that forbidden spot despite the peril.
Roxanne's expression darkened further, her features twisting into a mask of pure rage. "What do you think you're staring at, you filthy intruder?" she growled, her fingers tightening just enough to make stars dance in his vision.
With a violent twist of her arm, fueled by unbridled fury, Roxanne hurled him across the chamber as if he weighed no more than a sack of feathers. His body hurtled through the air, slamming into the unforgiving stone floor with a thunderous impact that left a deep, jagged crater in its wake. The shockwave rattled his bones to their core, sending waves of excruciating pain rippling through every limb and joint. He lay there for a moment, stunned, the world spinning around him.
"I'm so going to feel that tomorrow," Solvane groaned weakly, forcing himself up onto one elbow despite the agony protesting in his muscles. Blood trickled from a split lip, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand, tasting the metallic tang.
But Roxanne wasn't done. She was already advancing again, her steps sharp and deliberate, echoing faintly in the vast chamber. In her hand, a sword materialized as if from thin air—perhaps drawn from a hidden sheath or summoned by some arcane means. Its blade shimmered ominously in the dim, flickering light of the lanterns, casting eerie reflections on the rippling bathwater nearby.
Up on the roof, Fil's hair hung in wild disarray, matted with sweat from the humid air and his growing panic. His heart pounded like a war drum as terror seized him fully. "What am I going to do? She's going to kill him right here and now! Unless..." His eyes suddenly widened with a spark of desperate hope. "Unless I show her his emblem. That could prove everything!"
But the idea soured almost immediately, like milk left out in the sun. His frown deepened, brows knitting together in frustration. "No, that won't work. That fool doesn't even know about the emblem implanted on his lower back since birth. I only glimpsed it once, by accident, when he stepped out of the bath during one of our travels. He probably dismisses it as nothing more than a peculiar birthmark, some quirk of fate rather than the royal seal it truly is. Revealing it now would raise more questions than it answers."
Back on the ground, Solvane stretched out a trembling hand toward the approaching Roxanne, his voice cracking with raw desperation as he pleaded for his life. "Wait! Please, wait! I'm the crown prince of this kingdom! Killing me shall be considered high treason against the throne! Stop now, this instant, before it's too late!"
Roxanne froze mid-step, her sword poised and gleaming. For a brief, tense moment, the chamber fell silent save for the distant drip of water.
A weak, relieved smile began to spread across Solvane's battered face, his bruised cheeks pulling taut. He chuckled hoarsely to himself. "Why didn't I think of this earlier? I really am a fool, letting my pride get in the way like that."
Shakily, he pushed himself to his feet, wobbling unsteadily as he brushed the dust and debris from his torn clothes. Bits of stone clattered to the floor around him. Straightening his posture as best he could, he cleared his throat. "Now then, I'm willing to overlook this unfortunate misunderstanding. We can all just—"
BOOM!
The chamber erupted in chaos as a massive shockwave tore through the air, unleashed from Roxanne's outstretched palm. The force was cataclysmic; the bathwater surged in violent waves, splashing against the walls and soaking everything in sight. Debris rained down from the fractured roof above, chunks of stone and plaster crumbling like brittle bread.
Solvane's chest caved inward under the invisible assault, his ribs snapping like dry twigs underfoot. His heart compressed painfully, blood surging up his throat in a choking flood. His eyes rolled back in his head, vision fading to black as he coughed up a thick mouthful of crimson. His body was hurled backward once more, but this time, Roxanne lunged forward with blinding speed, seizing him midair by the collar. She held his broken form aloft, preventing him from being flung across the chamber like before.
"That's a first," she remarked dryly, an evil grin twisting her beautiful features into something sinister and unforgiving. Her eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "I see you'll say or do absolutely anything to squirm your way out of a dire situation, won't you? How pathetic."
"You dare speak to me of treason?" Her voice dropped to a chilling whisper, as cold as the depths of a winter grave. She lifted her blade slowly, deliberately, its razor-sharp tip brushing lightly against his trembling neck, drawing a thin line of blood that trickled down his skin.
"But impersonating the crown prince..." she sneered, her tone dripping with contempt and finality, "that is a felony of the highest order, punishable only by death. And I intend to carry out the sentence right here."