Burning Lilies Chapter 9

The room was cold. Joan's hands weren't free, but she can feel on the tips of her fingers the hard, slimy stone of the dungeon. She had no clue where she was nor had any idea why she was here. Joan was slightly bruised, wincing as she fidgeted in her shackles. They had put her in a scraggly looking dress bearing patches and tear-stains. Yet, she herself did not cry. Joan was not to give into these kidnappers' terror, and if she did, she would have lost. Finally, a bright light shone. It was the large heavy door of the prison opening to reveal a man in a large overcoat of burgundy and purple. He bore a scruffy beard, but he was bald, and he had a menacing look on his face. He stood there, smirking with his arms crossed and staring down at the unwavering woman.
"Who are you, monsieur?"
"Burgundy. The Kingdom of Burgundy. I'm surprised that my men didn't go as far as to cut off your arm or something. A couple of bruises is nothing compared to what they have done to previous victims. I'm here to take you to His Highness so he can...judge you..."
"I need no judgment except my God's judgment! Don't you dare use that on me!"
"Ma'am, you seem to be mistaken. His Highness IS God. You cannot deny this fact. I will escort you to court, where he will be waiting for you. He seems....excited..."

Joan rose and slightly limped as she made her way out of the dark, cold room. The light was completely gone as the heavy door slammed. Complete darkness.

----

Francis rode his horse so fast that those walking on the road stumbled as he past by. As he reached the crossroads to either Switzerland's or England's house, a younger boy walked right in front of his path. France, surprised, halted his horse, but it was too late. The teen fell to the ground, a blank expression on his face. When the scattered dust of the road settled, France finally recognized the boy.
"Feliciano? What are you doing here?"
"Ve~ France! I didn't know it was you? You must be in a hurry that-"
"I am, and I must be leaving now..."
"I was just stopping by Roderich's house! And I had the best pasta there that-"

France was already mounting his horse, but he told Italy,
"Feliciano, you must tell your sister that Joan has been kidnapped. It is important that she know. She might be able to do something. Hopefully she won't fail us like her mother."
"Yes sir! But how can Joan be kidnapped? She is probably stronger than Elizaveta at her worse!"
"Just....hurry Italy. Maria needs to know."

With that, France rode away to the right of the crossroads...England's territory. Italy continued to walk down the path towards France, and past that, his home. This time, he did not take his casual stroll but was hastily jogging towards his house to tell his sister what had happened.

The birds chirped, and the wind howled, but yet, their was complete silence on the fork of those crossroads.

----

Joan entered a room lavished with the royal crests of England. Lions with swords and crowns...that doesn't make much sense, does it, she thought. The men of Burgundy 'escorted' her into the room into the front row of the room. She sat surprisingly upright, seemingly knowing what will happen. And if she did know what would happen, she looked prepared.

As she waited for her 'judge' to come, a large horn was played and from the front of the room where a throne and curtain were, England came out and sprawled himself upon the throne. His crown seemed bigger than it was suppose to be, falling between his ears. He wore blue, red, and white attire embroidered with gold. Arthur stared a long time at Joan with his menacing green eys, but Joan pierced through those eyes with her sweet emerald ones. Finally, Arthur spoke.

"The ball is now in my court, Joan of Arcania."
"May God have mercy on your egotistical soul, Monsieur Kirkland."
"I am God, love, so don't play that card."

With those exchange of words, the trial commenced.