Fugitive Princess: Overthrown

An Unhappy Reunion

A group of armored guards burst into the brightly lit courtroom, four of them dragging in a girl in rags by her arms. They plopped the girl on the glowing porcelain floor in front of the golden throne, roughly holding her up. The girl kept her head down, hiding her face behind a tangled mess of red hair.

A young lady comfortably seated on the velvet cushions of the gleaming throne studied the scene calmly, gripping the golden scepter in her hands. Dressed in a glittering gown of diamonds, with her flowing blond hair pinned up in an elegant updo, she was in stark contrast to the rugged, filthy girl below her.

The monarch cocked her head quizzically. "For what reason have you brought this peasant before me?"

One of the guards who lingered behind the captured girl stepped forward and knelt in front of the ruler as a sign of respect.

"This peasant has committed an act of treason, Your Highness!" the guard exclaimed, his voice booming from behind his metallic helmet. "She had abandoned her Master and attempted to flee from his premises."

"From whom did she flee?" she inquired with a bored sigh. Peasants running from their Masters were a common occurrence. The young ruler knew that they only ran to be freed, and pitied them. However, they were born into peasantry for a reason, so the Order of Things was not to be disturbed.

"Duke Henry of the Eastern Seas."

Duke Henry? Why did her heart quicken at the mention of that name?

The Monarch motioned her head at the dozen of surrounding guards. "What is the need for so many guards for one measly peasant girl?"

 "She put up quite a fight, Your Highness." The soldier grimaced behind his helmet, embarrassed to have to report such an admission. 

It was then that the royal noticed the bruises that littered the poor girl's arms, most likely from the scrap. Some were faded and old as well, so the ruler could guess that this was not her first fight either. However, by her subdued and weak posture, she could tell that the peasant had been beaten into submission. In fact, a few droplets of blood stained the polished floor from where they had fell from her nose.

"Raise your head," the monarch commanded in a loud and stern voice. "Give your confession and explanation and I may let you off lightly."

The peasant girl refused to look up, stubbornly continuing to stare down at the floor. The royal's icy blue eyes flared up in rage as she straightened up in her throne.

"Raise your head, peasant!" she spat indignantly at such rudeness.

One of the guards snorted. "It appears this peasant has no regard for her own life."

A few of the other guards shushed him, while another muttered, "Do not speak without permission in Her Majesty's presence!"

The royal girl ignored the soldier's snarky comment, focusing on the peasant who dare show her such blatant disrespect. She snapped her fingers then and one of the guards yanked the peasant girl's head up by her long curly hair. She let out a hiss as her hair was pulled back tautly and her neck was bent upward at an unnatural angle. The bright lights and white walls temporarily blinded her as she adjusted to the light and blinked away the black spots that danced in her vision.

While the girl winced in pain, the ruler gasped in surprise at the sight of the girl's exposed bruised face, so softly that no one in the room could hear it.

That face...and the Duke of Henry...it couldn't be...

Realizing that she was quickly losing her composure, the ruler settled for a more blank and controlled expression to hide her shock. None of the guards appeared to notice anything amiss and simply waited for their Monarch to say something.