Name Calling

"Marquis Adrien, you know who those traitors are, as you were part of them, correct?" Bruno began sharply.

Adrien hesitated, his gaze fixed on the marble floor as every pair of eyes in the room bore into him. The silence was suffocating, broken only by the faint rustle of fabrics as the nobles shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

Bruno took a deliberate step closer, his presence looming over the marquis. "You have already proven your cooperation, Adrien. Do not falter now. Speak."

Adrien finally raised his head, his face pale but resolute. He opened his mouth, but the words seemed caught in his throat. The weight of betrayal hung heavy in the air, and the gathered nobles watched with bated breath, waiting for the axe to fall.

"I…" Adrien began, his voice barely a whisper. He cleared his throat, forcing himself to meet Bruno's unyielding gaze. "I will speak the truth, as I have promised."

Lady Genevieve's hand gripped the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles whitened. "What are you doing, Adrien?" she hissed, unable to stop herself.

Adrien's eyes flicked to her, regret flashing in them briefly. "What must be done, Genevieve."

Bruno gestured for him to continue, his patience razor-thin. "Names, Adrien. Give me the names."

Adrien inhaled deeply, his voice steady now as he spoke. "Lord Vallier. Count Duval. Lady Genevieve. These three have been at the forefront of the resistance."

A gasp rippled through the hall, the nobles recoiling in shock. Vallier shot to his feet, his face contorted in fury. 

"This is slander! Lies spun by a coward to save his own skin!"

Bruno raised a hand, silencing him effortlessly. "You will have your turn to speak, Lord Vallier. For now, I suggest you remain seated."

Vallier glared at the prince but reluctantly sank back into his chair, muttering curses under his breath.

Bruno turned back to Adrien, his tone demanding but measured. "Is that all, Marquis?"

Adrien hesitated, his hesitation betraying that there was more to reveal. He swallowed hard, his gaze flickering to Vallier and Duval, who stared daggers at him.

"There are others," he admitted, his voice lower now, as if hoping it wouldn't carry. "Baron Lavigne was involved initially but withdrew from active discussions. And… Renard. Lord Renard has expressed doubts but has not taken any overt action yet."

Genevieve's composure cracked, her face twisting in disdain. "You despicable worm," she spat, her voice trembling with barely suppressed rage. "You'll condemn us all to save yourself?"

Adrien's face crumpled, guilt and shame written plainly across it. "I have no choice," he murmured.

"I am sure prior to this event, there are other nobles who have joined your cause right?" Bruno asked. 

"There are," Adrien said and began calling out names.

Prior to this banquet, Bruno had ordered the Marquis to act as though he had not been caught, to maintain his ties with the conspirators and stir their confidence. Adrien had reluctantly agreed, knowing that his compliance was the only way to ensure his family's safety. Letters were written, discreet meetings held, and assurances given to the resistance that their plans remained secure.

Unbeknownst to the conspirators, every move they made was meticulously documented and fed back to Bruno's agents. By the time the banquet arrived, the prince had not only a list of names but a thorough understanding of the extent of their plotting.

"Give me names," Bruno urged.

Adrien's breathing quickened as he looked across the room, his eyes scanning the faces of the gathered nobles. He hesitated again, knowing that every name he uttered would deepen the fissures in the noble class and condemn yet another ally. But he also knew that hesitation would only invite more suspicion—and potentially, the wrath of Prince Bruno.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Adrien began to speak, his voice low and unsteady.

"Lord Marcel of Pereth," he said, his gaze darting toward a middle-aged man seated near the end of the long banquet table. Marcel's face turned pale, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"What is this madness?" Marcel exclaimed, his voice trembling. "I've done no such thing!"

Adrien ignored him, continuing with a shaky breath. "Baroness Elodie. She provided funding for the resistance under the guise of charitable contributions."

Elodie, a stately woman with silver-streaked hair, froze in her seat. Her composed demeanor cracked as she gripped the edge of the table. "This is outrageous!" she snapped. "Adrien, you vile coward! You'll lie and destroy lives to save your own hide?"

Adrien winced at her words but pressed on. "Lord Bertram. He facilitated arms shipments to the rebels through his shipping company."

Bertram, a portly man with flushed cheeks, shot to his feet, his voice booming. "Lies! These are baseless accusations! Your Highness, this man seeks to deceive you!"

Bruno raised his hand, his expression calm but commanding. "Sit down, Lord Bertram. You will have the opportunity to address these claims, but not before Marquis Adrien has finished."

Bertram reluctantly obeyed, though his fists clenched with fury.

Adrien's voice quivered as he continued. "Lady Sabine… she was instrumental in coordinating communications between the conspirators and the rebels."

Lady Sabine, seated near the center of the room, gasped audibly, her hand flying to her mouth. "I cannot believe this," she whispered, tears welling in her eyes. "Adrien, how could you?"

Adrien couldn't meet her gaze. He felt the weight of his betrayal like a crushing boulder on his chest, but he knew there was no turning back now.

Bruno stepped forward, his piercing gaze sweeping over the accused nobles. "You see, my lords and ladies, the resistance is not a faceless entity. It is here, among us, woven into the very fabric of this room. And now that the web of deception has been unraveled, we will deal with it."

With a flick of Bruno's finger, the grand doors of the hall burst open, and a squadron of armed Elysean soldiers marched in. 

Their boots thudded against the marble floor, their muskets gleaming under the light of the chandeliers. The sight sent a ripple of shock and fear through the room.

The nobles watched in stunned silence as the soldiers spread out, surrounding the hall. 

"By order of His Highness, Prince Bruno de Elysea," Berthold declared, his voice echoing through the room, "those named as conspirators against the crown are hereby placed under arrest."

The tension snapped like a taut string.

"You can't do this!" Lord Marcel of Pereth shouted, his face a mix of indignation and panic. "I have done nothing to warrant this treatment!"

Two soldiers approached him without hesitation, and grabbed him by the arm.

As the soldiers grabbed him by the arms, Marcel struggled against their grip. "Unhand me! This is an outrage!"

Baroness Elodie rose from her seat, her face flushed with anger. "You cannot arrest a noble of Elysea without evidence! This is a travesty of justice!"

Her words were cut short as two soldiers gripped her arms firmly, pulling her from her chair. She resisted, her silver-streaked hair disheveled as she struggled against them, but it was futile. The soldiers did not flinch or respond to her protests.

Lord Bertram, red-faced and shaking with fury, lashed out verbally as two soldiers approached him. "You dare touch me? Do you know who I am? This is an affront to the entire noble class!" His booming voice echoed across the hall, but it fell on deaf ears.

One of the soldiers grabbed his arm, but Bertram attempted to pull away. With a swift motion, the second soldier seized his other arm, subduing him. His shouts devolved into curses as he was dragged toward the exit.

Lady Sabine, trembling and tearful, pleaded as the soldiers neared her. "Please, Your Highness, I have children! They need me—I beg you to reconsider!"

Bruno's expression remained impassive, his focus unwavering. He gave no indication that her words had even registered.

The room was filled with the sounds of chairs scraping against the marble floor and the accused nobles' desperate cries. Each plea was met with silence from the soldiers and indifference from Bruno, whose piercing gaze never wavered.

Those nobles whose names weren't called watched in silence, fearing that they might be next if they intervened..

Lord Vallier stood defiantly as the soldiers reached him, his eyes blazing with anger. "You think this will break us? You think this show of force will make us bow to you?"

The soldiers said nothing, their faces emotionless as they secured his hands behind his back. He strained against their grip but was swiftly overpowered.

"This is tyranny!" Vallier bellowed as he was marched toward the door. "You will regret this, Bruno! The nobility will not stand for—"

His voice faded as the soldiers dragged him from the hall.

Count Duval, his face contorted in rage, clenched his fists as the soldiers surrounded him. "You're a coward, Bruno!" he spat. "Hiding behind your guards and your throne! If you were a true leader, you'd face us directly, not—"

A soldier stepped forward, grabbing him by the arm, and Duval's tirade was cut short as he was hauled from his seat. He continued to shout insults as he was escorted out.

Genevieve, ever composed even in the face of calamity, glared daggers at Bruno. "You may think you've won, Your Highness," she said icily as soldiers flanked her. "But this will not be forgotten."

Bruno remained silent, his gaze locked on her until she was taken away.

"Now then—let's meet them outside," Bruno thought to himself.