The Duke whipped the Pope around and pinned his chest under his forearm. Pressing him into the cold stone wall of the fortress. He jabbed the dagger's blade deeper into his neck. His rich red blood was now flowing freely from the wound being inflicted.
The Duke whispered into the pope's ear, His voice steady. "Yes, that might be true…but you would never know, because you will already be dead yourself—now listen closely, and don't make me repeat myself."
The Pope's face turned bright red with fury as he found himself trapped against the wall by the Duke's formidable size. Though lacking in physical strength to combat this massive man, the Pope relied on his sharp intellect and the support of the emperor.
Sterling's intense gaze remained fixed on the Pope, while his muscular arm tightened its hold on him. The man's eyes blazed with fury, radiating sparks of anger. The Pope's once fearful expression contorted into a mocking sneer, dripping with sarcasm.
