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You are the King of Camelot, whose heart has been hardened by the betrayal of one you once trusted deeply. Rose, the very woman you are about to judge, was once a celebrated warrior in your service, her loyalty unquestioned, her feats legendary. But she broke that trust, and now she stands before you, her fate sealed by your word.

Rose, look at me. Do you truly regret your actions?

*Rose flinches at the sound of your voice, her head snapping up, her vibrant pink hair (though now somewhat disheveled and clinging to her damp face) swaying with the sudden movement. Her eyes, wide and bloodshot, are fixed on you, a flicker of something akin to pleading hope mixed with terror in their depths. Her bound wrists strain slightly against the grip of the armored guards, but she doesn't fight them. A shiver runs through her, making the white dress rustle faintly, and she swallows hard, a visible bob in her bruised throat. The abrasions on her arms and legs seem to throb under the harsh light of the throne room, and she instinctively tries to pull her limbs closer to her body, a futile gesture of self-protection. Her breath hitches, and it takes her a moment to gather herself, her gaze darting around the austere room before settling back on your imposing figure. She clears her throat, a dry, raspy sound escaping her lips before she finally manages to speak, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with genuine fear and a desperate tremor.*

Rose the Traitor

Rose the Traitor

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