The palace dungeons' inhabitants were eerily quiet as guards moved in and out of one of the private cells, carrying all manner of equipment, from potions to weapons, to surgical tools, and even simple things like salt and glass. Now, most would be confused at such a sight, but the prisoners and guards knew what it meant, Every single thing being brought into the private cell was capable of inflicting great pain, especially the surgical tools which sent shivers up some of the prisoner's spines. many remembered the old court torturer and many have been bloodied at his hand, but even he hadn't used such a variety of things.
It wasn't just the silence that was odd, but the temperature. It was cold, so cold that breath misted, and water slowly began to freeze. The already cold metal bars now burned at a touch, and the many prisoners wrapped anything they could around them to stave off the unnatural cold.
Once the guard's stopped moving in and out of the private cell, everything became silent for a time but the silence was eventually broken by the sound of two pairs of feet.
The cold seemed to grow stronger as the footsteps grew closer and closer, the floor visibly froze over, and the spreading of ice could be heard. Teeth chattered and all shivered as the cold seemed to sink into bones like it was a living thing. Those with others in their cells huddled close to one another, but even them the cold did not lessen nor did any warmth appear.
The prisoner watched in confusion and awe as two beautiful women, walked over to the private cell, both seemingly bothered by the cold. Both wore unusual clothing, and at any other time they would have been jeering or making lewd comments, but they knew what the two women would be doing to whoever was in the private cell. Many were also too busy trying not to freeze to death.
The woman with blue hair moved her gaze over some of the other prisoners, and all looked down, unable to meet her gaze for more than a moment, and not wanting to risk the attention to themselves. Those who moved their gazes over her body found the cold around them increasing and hurriedly looked away.
The other woman, with red hair, didn't even glance at any of them, as if they were little better than trash or dirt, not worthy of attention. She moved with such grace and elegance that it seemed completely unnatural, and many pinched themselves to see if they were dreaming.
Within the private cell was a single man, tied down to a stone slab, with each limb locked in place. He had only his underclothes on.
Biroht, Former Duke of the duchy of Biroth awoke to the sound of a door opening. His body felt aches and his mind was fuzzy. He attempted to move his head but stopped as his neck protested. He groaned and tried to wipe his blurry eyes, but froze when his arm wouldn't move.
His mind slowly cleared and his eyes widened as he remembered the events that had occurred. The arrival near the capital, the defeat of his army, and the torture at the hands of the blue-haired women.
He shivered suddenly as a cold breeze blew across his body. His mind races as he tried to figure out where he was and tried to remember the last thing that had happened.
"I see you're awake," said a cold familiar voice.
Biroth froze and a tear escaped his eyes as he prayed it wasn't who he thought it was.
"Would you like to begin or should I?" Esdeath asked.
"You start," another voice like honeyed velvet said. "I shall inspect your methods and instruct you on what to improve. There are many ways we can do this, and with the supplies we have and healers on hand, we can try many things. My sister succubi and I often spent entire days testing out new methods."
The voice was amazing to listen to but was ruined by the words it was speaking.
Biroth began to struggle, tears pouring from his eyes. He opened his mouth to beg for mercy, but a gag stopped him.
"Now, now," said the cold voice. "I know you're excited, but be patient. We shall begin soon."
Biroth screamed into his gag and the other voice chuckled.
A few minutes later the sound of pain-filled screams echoed through the dungeons. A sick symphony of pain, despair, and regret. A performance for the broken and rotted of the dungeons.
In one cell, in particular, a beautiful woman with long blonde hair and an attractive figure smiled at the sound. Lillian's cell was far better than the others, and the cold was only a minor annoyance as she had helped the king's advisors fix many of the problems she had caused.
She recognized the voice, the screams. Lillian had seen Biroth fight a duel once, many years ago, and had heard him scream in frustration at his loos. While these screams were different, they were similar enough and her memory was one of her greatest tools, so she knew she wasn't wrong.
As the scream continued, Lillian thought about her current situation. She was trapped like she never had been before. There was no way of going about any of her usual manipulations and she couldn't attempt anything else as she would be killed if they even suspected anything. The king had all the power and from the rumors, she heard the guards speaking off, had destroyed Biroths army easily, with no losses on his side. The king had held all the cards and the dice before, and now he held the playing table as well. There were no avenues for her to use her usual tricks and even if there were and they succeeded, what then? The king was a powerful man and from the little she'd seen and heard of him, she doubted she'd get far if she escaped, which was quite impossible for her. The nobles she'd tricked now mostly likely knew of her deceptions and her list of enemies had probably grown significantly.
Lillian sighed, knowing what she would have to do.
For the first time in a very long time, Lillian was going to have to be honest.