Whispers filled the castle as the guards escorted a familiar, tall, redheaded man down the halls towards the dungeons.
"Is that the prince?"
"I hear he will be lady Ronda's executioner..."
"The poor thing, she flew too close to the sun..."
"She deserves whatever is coming to her, she orchestrated the queen's granddaughter's murder!"
"Princess Eira? How terrible, she was so young."
The whispers didn't miss Damien's sharp sense of hearing, and they only served to peak his anxiety even more. Curse his moral campus! This elven woman he was about to meet; she killed his little cousin, the punishment was death, there was no time to be second guessing it!
The gaurds led him down a fight of stairs to the cellars of his grandmother's palace. The former queen, after having retired from the throne, did not see the need to have dungeons and prisons, hence Ronda had been held down in the cellars where queen Tauriel brewed ale and wine.
