"The mighty, the proud; the all-powerful, reduced to a state such as this, do you understand now?" Sitri was seated comfortably around a table eating daintily from a plate full of exquisite-looking meat with a knife and fork, exercising proper table manners, and before her on the opposite side Ikaris was seated with her hands and legs bound and her neck shackled.
"Tell me, how do you expect your fiance to come from Arkadia?" She asked Ikaris who was silent with a somewhat expressionless glare. "No?" Sitri took another bite of her meal and then placed her knife before Ikaris. "Okay, then, how is that child of yours coming along did it survive getting poked?" She asked, and like a switch had been flipped Ikaris's eyes flashed with divine power and the chains holding her trembled.
