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Rough hands awaken Palla from her slumber as they yank her from the bed. She lands on the floor with a thud, head clunking against the carpet as she struggles against her captors. Whoever they are, they’re strong, and she can’t shake them off as they press her front into the floorboards and twist her hands behind her back. The hem of her nightgown, a present from Queen Minerva, tears as she is dragged across the room with an angry and fearful yell.
Minerva, ever the light sleeper, does not go down quite as easily. It’s hard for Palla to see from the floor, but in a flurry of thrown blankets Minerva is on her feet atop the bed, one hand wrapped around the knife she keeps under the pillow at all times. She descends from above with a kick to her target’s windpipe, and the man’s throat crunches under heel as she lands on top of him. He doesn’t get up, but the Red Dragoon does, swinging the knife at the next man, who backs up as he parries the weapon with a blade of his own. All of the attackers are disguised in hoods and robes, but it’s clear that these are no ordinary burglars. The man fights with just as much skill as Minerva as they dance around the room.
The man on top of Palla begins to drag her again, this time towards the door. The falcon knight thrashes, teeth gnashing as she tries to bite the hands holding her down. She kicks out, her leg smacking against a table and sending a vase of flowers to the ground. Glass shards and water spill across the floor- Minerva turns her head at the noise, and-
“Pipe down, bitch, ” the knife-wielding man growls, dropping his weapon before clocking Minerva in the ear with a massive fist. She drops like a stone as her eyes roll back in her head, weapon plinking harmlessly onto the carpet. The man sheathes his blade before stooping down to pick the limp woman up; throwing her over his shoulder effortlessly.
“ Minerva… no… ” Palla whispers as she stares on in fear. The man dragging her begins to move again, but he still does not cover her mouth. “Where are you taking her?!”
The man holding Minerva turns to Palla for the first time. “Oh? Who do we have here?”
Palla grits her teeth and holds her tongue.
“I did not think the Red Dragoon would be one to request the service of whores… it seems I was mistaken.”
“How dare you. She-”
“Oh,” the man says, and she can hear the sneer in his voice. “Wait. No. I know you. Palla, wasn’t it? The pegasus woman.”
She closes her mouth, refusing him an answer.
“Yes… Palla. Your head is nearly as valuable as hers.” The man looks to the one holding her. “Throw her in the dungeon as well. The guillotine’s blade is sharp enough for two.”
“You’ll execute us? For what crime?!”
“You would not know, lucky girl, but Queen Minerva’s dissolving of much of Macedon’s military has left thousands without the work or power that we so rightly earned. She’s made many enemies in the name of peace…” He says, waving his hand as he passes by. “We’re simply putting Macedon back on the right path.”
“Such violence will only result in more war!”
“So silly, this one,” he mumbles, squatting down near Palla’s head and grabbing a fistfull of her hair. “Silly, silly, silly… We are soldiers. That’s exactly what we want.”