In the peasant hierarchy of Lobel, there are the plebeians, the dogs, the rats, and, just below them, the prisoners. If there was a lower rank, it belonged to Ahelissa Seraf. Locked in the dungeon with only a few rays of light to give her hope, she lay in the corner on what can only be described as a sorry excuse for a bed – a favour given to her by the court she once served. Her clothes, in tatters. Her hair, once silky and braided, was now dishevelled and greasy. And the persistent pungent smell wasn’t helping.

It was eerily quiet now. All the other prisoners had either been executed, died of hunger, or passed out. The only sound that one could hear was the occasional sob of despair from Ahelissa. But not today – today, she stayed silent, hoping the gods would have mercy on her before the court. For the first time in weeks, there was a chance she could walk free, or escape if need be.

A faint tap on her cell door pulled her from her reverie.

“It’s time,” the silhouette at the door said as he shuffled some keys and opened it. “Get out!”

Seraf turned her head to face the man. Judging from his armour, he was a High Knight. There were another one behind him, quiet – fearful, he was just a knight. She tried to stand up but instead fell on her first step. She was weak; they hadn’t fed her in days. It was the only way they could contain her.

Slowly, Seraf made her way to the door, blind to the blood coming from her knees. The pain was mild; her body was numb.

“Cuff her,” the High Knight commanded the knight, whilst tossing him a pair of silver cuffs with a long chain. The knight, hesitant, fiddled and dropped the cuffs.

“Quit slacking,” the High Knight said, hand on his waist, close to his sword. The knight quickly apologised, picked up the cuffs, and restrained Ahelissa.

“You really think this will hold me?” her voice was dry as she raised her hands mockingly to the knight.

“Be quiet, and walk,” he yanked the chain, pulling Ahelissa forwards. They remained silent as they went up the dungeon and into the castle’s main hall.

She was nearly blinded by the sudden exposure to the sunlight. Three weeks since she last saw it. “It’s been a while since I last saw it.”

“And it’s going to be your last,” the High Knight’s tone was acidic; condescending. “So keep walking.

They went east, towards the courtroom. The doors were grand, made of oak, with Lobel’s insignia inscribed on them. The High Knight proceeded to the doors and gave them a light tap. Almost immediately, two guards opened them and bowed their heads as the Knight passed. The way he commanded the room with ease made Ahelissa feel small. He proceeded and stood behind the King.

The moment she stepped inside the courtroom, whatever little energy she had left in her starved body quickly dissipated. From the burning stares to the acid murmurs, everyone made it clear that she was a traitor. Well, everyone except the King – he remained silent at the throne. The only expression on his face was disappointment.

Before moving to the counsel table, Ahelissa’s cuffs were unlocked by the knight. Slowly, she treaded, like an injured cub seeking asylum. All through her seemingly long journey, the jury’s eyes were accusingly fixated on her and every so often, she could hear words like ‘traitor’ and ‘quisling’ being thrown at her.

Finally, she reached the counsel table. The whole room went silent. A fairly young lad from the counsel stood up, a sheet of paper held firmly in his hand. “The trial of Ahelissa, traitor to the throne of Lobel, is now in session.”

Immediately after announcing, the young lad went before the King and bowed on one knee. He knew he was about to die. He knew his mistake; failing to address Ahelissa according to her honorific. Ranks were not a thing to be shrugged upon in Lobel. Apart from treason, this was the only other crime punishable by death.

“My King, I offer my sincerest of apologies…”

“Begging will not help,” the king interjected, his tone as harsh as the expression he wore on his face. He looked at the desperate girl sitting at the counsel table then back at the lad. “Traitor or not, Ahelissa Seraf is a Baroness and should be addressed as such.” The King slightly lifted his right hand, and formed a fist. At this subtle signal, the High Knight that was standing behind the King unsheathed his sword and beheaded the lad in one swift movement.

A chain of gasps and heaves flooded the room as the decapitated head fell on the marble floor. The King didn’t even flinch. He’d done this countless times, but no one dared speak up; least they join the corpses.

Dismissing the blood on the floor, the King probed the room, the jury was still shaken but he didn’t care. He went on to state, “Ahelissa Seraf,” instinctively, she looked up to face his green gaze. “You aided and abetted Duke Seraf in committing an act of treason. Both of you are traitors to the throne. How do you plead?”

“Not… guilty.”

“Very well,” the King spoke with a cunning smile. Then, with his piercing gaze only on her, he declared, “I, King of Lobel, helped Laina Vika; not your grandfather, Duke Seraf.”

Though it was as if a bomb had been dropped, only eerie and painful silence enveloped the room. Ahelissa stared back at the King.

‘How,’ Ahelissa thought to herself and let out a sigh, ‘did I end up involved with a hopeless tyrant?’