When the blindfold was removed from Thérèse's eyes, she squinted at the sudden, harsh sunlight. A door locked behind her. Thérèse was in a lavish bedroom. The floors were a pale gold tile, partially covered by an extravagant rug in the center of the room. The bed frame had a gold finish, with intricate carvings. Clean, silk sheets were stretched over a mattress that could easily hold five people. Light blue linen drapes hung from the windows. They were drawn open to let in the fading sunlight. A chandelier dangled delicately from the ceiling, which was plastered white and had small paintings of cherubs and flowers near the corners. It rivalled her own bedroom in Argence.
Thérèse felt fear and anxiety boiling in the pit of her stomach. Guards had overtaken her and Bernard upon entering the castle. They were blindfolded and separated. Thérèse had no idea what they'd done with Bisou. Her heart cracked at the thought of something terrible befalling her beloved horse. Before Thérèse could think about it any further, she heard the white door behind her open. Footsteps echoed quietly throughout the bedroom.
Thérèse turned and locked eyes with a man who was old enough to be her father. He was on the shorter side, but compensated with heeled riding boots that added a couple of extra inches. He wore a black jacket over a white shirt, with faded black pants. His dark hair was growing grey at the roots, and it was evident he was balding. His face had an odd appearance; he was too ugly to be handsome, but too handsome to be ugly. Wrinkles surrounded his eyes, and his skin was tan from the sun. His hands were folded neatly behind his back. Despite this effort to sustain his posture, he still slouched a bit.
"Hello." the man said. His voice was awkward, like he needed to clear his throat but couldn't. He stared at Thérèse, apparently waiting for an answer.
"Hello." She responded flatly.
"I am Paul. After the plight of our leader Claude, God rest his soul, I took over the movement to take Argence and Bayonne." Thérèse interrupted his soliloquoy with a brief laugh.
"Do I amuse you?" Paul asked. Thérèse could tell by the tone of his voice he was slightly irritated.
"No, sorry." Thérèse said in an airy, sarcastic tone. "I just found it funny that you were the one they chose."
Paul straightened, clearly offended. "Why would you think that?" he demanded. His forehead wrinkled as a confused expression came over his face.
"Oh, no reason. Please, continue." Thérèse replied with a smirk. Paul rolled his eyes and laughed curtly through his nose.
"As I was saying. I am now in charge here, and once you and your little friend Prince Henri are taken care of, both kingdoms will be mine."
"You will never take Argence, or Bayonne. A mouse of a man like you will never be able to sustain that power. Plus, you'll never find Henri." Thérèse took a step towards the man and spat on his cheap boots. He flinched as she did.
"Funny that you still think that. Henri is in Bayonne's dungeon, and the rest of your little party are currently locked in the bedroom above you. My excellent guards captured all of them. So yes, Thérèse, I found Henri." Paul sat with a smug look on his face.
"I don't believe you. He's three times the man you are, he would never be caught. Even if he was captured, he won't stay that way for long." Thérèse retorted.
"That's fine, you don't have to." Paul waved his hand in the air as he approached Thérèse. "Believe whatever you want, my dear princess. But the truth is the truth, no matter who believes it. It's not Henri I'm focused on at the moment. It's you."
"What about me?"
"Well, like you said, running both Argence and Bayonne will be quite the task. I know that if Argence saw someone familiar by my side, it would make it much easier."
"What are you suggesting?"
"A simple proposal." Paul leaned against a wooden table, one hand propping him up, the other on his hip.
"What kind of proposal?"
"Well, you've been Princess of Argence your whole life. I want to make you Queen of Argence, and Bayonne."
Thérèse scoffed. "With you as king, I presume?"
Paul nodded. "I was thinking something more like 'Grand Chancellor'."
"Never." Thérèse snorted.
"Oh, come now, Thérèse." Paul reached his hand up to cup her chin. She slapped it away. This man was starting to mimic Claude far too much for Thérèse's taste.
"Never." She repeated, more sternly this time.
Paul sighed, and feigned a sad look. "Yes, I was worried you'd say that. Guards?"
Two guards entered the room, one brandishing a butcher's knife. They each took one of Thérèse's wrists and pinned her hands to the table. She tried to resist, but to no avail.
"I will have you as my queen, one way or another. Each day you refuse will cost you a finger. I highly suggest you rethink my proposal."
"My answer is the same; never!" Thérèse yelled.
"That's day one, then."
The butcher knife came down hard on Thérèse's left pinky. It was dull, and didn't slice clean through the first time. Thérèse stared at her mangled finger as the knife came down a second time to finish the job. Thérèse screamed in pain. Her knees buckled. The guards released her wrists and she fell to her knees, clutching her bleeding hand to her chest. Paul pulled out a handkerchief and gently covered the fresh wound. The scarlet blood blossomed and quickly spread across the once-white, now-beige cloth.
"I'll see you tomorrow." Paul said in an eerily calm voice. He turned on his heel and left the room. The guards followed him out. The doors slammed shut behind them.
—
Henri, Mehala, Zin, Caram, and Bernard sprinted through the halls of Bayonne. Just as they were about to take the stairs upwards, a voice called out from behind them.
"You there! Halt!" Henri froze, panicked. He searched frantically for an escape. Once one guard saw them, the others would know of their presence in a matter of minutes. He pointed to a window on the opposite side of the hallway.
"Go!" he yelled.
"What? Are you crazy?" Bernard yelled back.
"Just do it!" Zin jumped first, breaking through a rainbow of stained glass. Mehala and Caram followed. Henri drew his sword, ready to fight the barrage of guards that was quickly approaching. Bernard saw him take a fighting stance. With one leg in the hall and one out of the window, Bernard wrapped an arm around Henri's shoulder. He launched both of them out of the window. The pair plummeted to the ground. They were on the side of the palace, near the woods. Bernard and Henri froze for a second, the fall having knocked the wind out of them. Bernard flinched as Henri's sword landed point-down in the soil only inches from his face. Henri staggered to his feet, pulling Bernard up with him. Henri pulled his sword out of the ground by the hilt, and the two of them followed the rest of the troupe into the woods.