As soon as
Robert realises where he is, he rushes straight to the bars of the
nearest cell.
“You,
you there,” he appeals to the nearest girl, a plump blonde
shivering with fear, “Have the executions begun?”
The blonde
girl looks at him blankly. “The imposters,” he implores, “Have
any of you been killed yet?”
The girl
continues to be unresponsive, but a voice behind him speaks up. “Not
yet,” it spits, “You're still in time to enjoy the spectacle.”
“Spectacle?”
he says, turning, “Oh no, you have us wrong. We're going to make
sure none of you are harmed.”
“And how
would you propose to do that?” The speaker is tall, thin and
elegant.
“Simple,”
Robert replies cockily, “We're going to give the Prince exactly
what he wants.”
