Livia awoke cold, and with one of the worst headaches she’d ever had to endure. She didn’t know where she was, but it was dimly lit at least. When she tried getting out of the chair she was sat in, she realised she was bound to it, her legs tied to the chair’s and her hands tied behind the backrest. Either side of her, she now saw, were Krey and Emilie, also tied down to chairs in the same manner. They were both… unconscious; yes, definitely unconscious, definitely not dead. She could see their chests rhythmically rising and falling— breathing. She looked down at herself; she was back in her black leather jacket, trousers, and boots, the glamour gone. Damn it, she cursed silently, I was enjoying that. The silver lining was that it gave her a rough time for how long she’d been unconscious; it’d at least been a few hours.

Light suddenly flooded the room from behind - daylight, it seemed - and then vanished just as quickly. Footsteps approached, and a figure passed between the chairs, proudly striding into view. His skin was dark like coffee, and his eyes were only a few shades of brown lighter. He was just a bit shorter than Livia, and he couldn’t have been much older. His ear-length black hair emerged from under a red tricorne with a white feather in it, the same theme running down the rest of his clothes; shirt, trousers, and tabard all of red with a white feather crest emblazoned on the front of the tabard, the ensemble complete with a pair of white boots. On his hip, he wore a sidesword made of a bright orange metal Livia didn’t recognise.

“Good,” his voice slithered. “You’re awake. Then we can begin.”

“Who the hell are you? Where the fuck are we?!”

“I am Commandant Inquisitor Reynoso…” he smiled like a snake. “But you can just call me Hector.”

Livia started growling and rocking her chair. “Gods be damned, I am getting sick of this shit! First I get stuck here, then I nearly lose one of my only friends, and I was finally starting to feel like things were getting better…” a tear threatened spill from her eye. “I was really enjoying today… but…”

Krey’s voice, slurred and grim, finished her rant. “But it’s been ruined by meditations on a garnet shadow.”

“Ah,” Hector tuned, “Krey, my old friend! I’m glad you haven’t forgotten our little adage.”

“I figured you’d catch up to me eventually…” Krey turned his head to look at Livia. “I’m just sorry it had to be now.”

“For your information,” Hector addressed Livia, “you have been incarcerated by the Garnet Inquisition. While in our custody, you will be interrogated, tried for whatever has earned you our attention, and then executed for the good of Berodyl.”

Livia had to grit her teeth to not scream. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The Knights Berodyl are the light of civilisation,” Krey explained wearily, “and the Garnet Inquisition are the dark. Technically, they have no formal standing… but…” he bobbed his head from side to side, as if to say y’know, feeling the rest was self-explanatory. Emilie might’ve known, but Livia certainly didn’t; such things hadn’t existed in the paradise of Aubade.

“You make us sound so ominous,” Hector chuckled. “I suppose your description is apt enough.” He turned his attention to a ratty little man who nobody had noticed until just now. “When Her Holiness awakes, we will begin with her; I’d like to have a hierophant in our custody for as little time as possible.”

“Yes, sir!” the subordinate squealed.

Livia and Krey were not able to talk to Emilie before she was dragged off in her chair; they’d taken her out of the room and to gods-knew-where right as she was coming to, not letting her become lucid enough to hear her friends. They called out to her, but their fruitless efforts were punctuated by the slamming of the wooden door.

“Shit… shit, shit, shit!” Livia muttered, progressively losing control of her volume.

“I’m sure you have some questions,” Krey said, “but right now, I need you to keep your head on straight.”

“Oh yeah? And how the hell do you expect me to do that? We’re trapped in here while they do gods-know-what to Emilie, and—”

“Don’t worry about Emilie,” Krey shook his head. “They wouldn’t dare touch a hair on her pretty little head… not yet, anyway.” He grunted, squirming in his seat. “Which gives us time to… ah! There it is.”

“What’re you doing?”

Krey smirked as he raised his hands up, free of their ties. “Believe it or not, this isn’t my first time in bondage. I’ve had to get myself out of this exact situation once before, and it’s amazing what you can teach yourself when you’re about to die.” He crept over to Livia, who had managed to still herself, and began working on her bonds next. “I’m going to retie the knots, but not secure enough to hold if you struggle free of them. I don’t want Hector to realise what I’ve done just yet, so don’t shake yourself loose until we’re ready to make our escape, okay?”

Livia stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, before finally nodding. “Yeah… okay.”

Krey sat back down in his chair and did the best he could with his own ties, mostly just holding the straps around his wrists tight without any real knot. “Now… we wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For when they bring Emilie back. we’ll give Hector the shock of his miserable little life.”