Humiliation

Herich moved closer to Amarta, who survived in her futile attempt to shield half of her body, utilizing her disheveled hair as a fragile curtain to obscure her exposed chest. She couldn't escape the inescapable truth; she had been reduced to a spectacle in the aftermath of the tragic demise of three knights who had devoted themselves to serving her.

"A mere slave like you," Herich sneered, pausing to scrutinize her in her vulnerable state. "Such a title as queen is beyond your reach, Amarta. This is your true self. As worthless as the day I first laid eyes on you."

Herich resumed his macabre monologue, his steps echoing through the chamber as he advanced, and halted to stand directly before Amarta. Crouching, he gingerly lifted her chin, his touch both sinister and invasive. "Well, I don't blame Artonius for this," he mused, his words dripping with malice. "Who could bear to not be aroused when you had a chance to see it."

Amarta, eyes still steadfastly sealed against Herich's malevolent presence, remained resolute in her refusal to turn toward him, offering only a humble bow, an unspoken testament to her surrender.

For an inexplicable reason, Herich's visage contorted, as if unsettled by some unseen disturbance. "A body that belongs to me," he murmured.

His hand traversed Amarta's skin, evoking tremors in her, the chill of his touch sending shivers through her being, until he began to caress her hair. "Doesn't this mar the beauty you have, Amarta?" Herich inquired, his words oozing with a disturbing mixture of menace and desire.

With the blade still emerging from his hand, Herich subjected Amarta to further cruelness, maliciously yanking at her tresses, severing the crown she had cherished and tended with care. The strands, which had silently borne witness to the full spectrum of her life's joys and agonies, now lay scattered upon the cold floor.

The relentless torment coerced Amarta to pry open her swollen eyes, unveiling her azure irises that cast their gaze downwards, vacant and forlorn. She could only surrender to the merciless ordeal, her thoughts consumed by the haunting uncertainty of how long this torment would persist.

Herich's smile widened, knowing that there were no longer things that veiled Amarta's exposed chest in front of everyone. Some of the ministers continued to observe, still too embarrassed to look at the queen in such a state.

"How fortunate Artonius must be to relish all of this," Herich exclaimed, his lecherous expression as he drew closer to Amarta. "It makes me envious."

Fiona, ensnared in the clutches of Phantom Omega, executed a desperate maneuver, relinquishing a fragment of her resplendent scarlet gown to gain her liberty. She darted into the tumultuous courtyard, her piercing cries eliciting an unexpected response from Herich. His brow furrowed, he swiveled to discern the source of this emergent voice amidst the encircling adults.

"Fiona?" Herich's incredulous utterance resonated, a testament to the astonishment of his daughter's dauntless intrusion.

Devoid of acknowledgment for her father's disbelieving words, Fiona surged towards Amarta, enfolding her in an ardent embrace that radiated warmth in the frigid midst of the scene. Amarta's eyes widened, her countenance struck with shock, as Fiona's orbs brimmed with tears and resonated with heartfelt sobs. "Auntie Amarta! Forgive me! Forgive me!"

Herich's irritation surged to its zenith as he snatched Fiona's hand, his tone a thunderous command. "Do not dare to interfere in this!" His voice reverberated with absolute leader, commanding the attention of all eyes in there.

But Fiona, resolute in her determination, remained undaunted. With a strong resolve, she shouted back, "No! I won't abandon Auntie to face this humiliation alone! I won't allow her to be tortured!"

Herich's eyes widened, his voice taking on a harsh edge as he mercilessly tugged at Fiona's hair. "What? Do you dare to defy me, you disobedient child?" He thundered with righteous indignation, his turmoil noticeable. "Your insubordination is so insufferable!"

Fiona, powered by an indomitable spirit, braved the searing distress as her hair was wrenched from his grasp, causing her to tumble to the ground. Despite the agony, she remained steadfast in her commitment to defend Amarta. Without hesitation, she once again enfolded the frozen woman in a protective embrace.

"You worthless child!" Herich's cruelty forced Fiona to relinquish her hold, propelling her several paces away from Amarta. Her body ached from the hard landing, and as she strumbled to rise, she bore the physical toll of her courageous defiance.

Herich then channeled his wrath towards Amarta with a charge, "It's your doing; you've changed Fiona! She even dared to challenge me, you accursed woman!"

With ruthless determination, he delivered a barrage of blows to Amarta's face. Despite her injuries and the dust that marred her visage, her ethereal beauty still shone through. Each strike compelled Amarta to momentarily turn her head when Herich's hand collided with her right cheek.

But he didn't stop there; he proceeded to deliver a relentless series of kicks to Amarta's backside, evoking cries of pain. In these tense moments, all she could do was hope that the child within her womb would endure.

The anguished screams of the queen reverberated through the area, the sole sounds adorning the increasingly harrowing atmosphere. The once-chattering crowd fell silent, torn between empathy and their own discomfort, their pities gradually tilting toward Amarta. Herich had gone too far, and even one of his ministers made a hesitant attempt to step in, though fear quickly quelled his impulse.

"You slut! You've made my life into this nightmare!" Herich berated the woman beneath him. "Not only did you break me by choosing that man, but you've emboldened my own child to withstand me!"

"I will make you suffer!" Herich added, his threats fiercer. As he readied to launch another brutal assault, he declared, "I will make you suffer more than this!"

As he was about to deliver another vicious blow, Fiona intervened, landing on the hapless girl's shoulders and colliding with Amarta's body before crashing to the ground herself, writhing in tremendous pain. Herich was taken aback when he witnessed Fiona, who rose and crawled to embrace her aunt once more.

"Stop, Father!" Fiona's cry shattered the tense silence, her sobbing increasing in intensity. "Please, stop! Don't do this anymore! Don't, don't do this to Auntie!"

Seeing his daughter in such distress, Herich began to relent. His heaving chest gradually slowed and calmed until he closed his eyes and exhaled, attempting to find reconciliation. For reasons unknown, Herich softened. Despite his rage and his burning desire for vengeance, seeing him inflict such harm on his child had a serious effect, causing the man to discontinue.

"Take her back to the cage," Herich ordered, his eyes still shut, and his command was carried out by the one of Phantom Omega who loomed near Amarta. "If you don't mind allowing your loyal individual to die for helping you, I shall let them bear witness to this, and rest assured, you will experience this torment again, Amarta."

The man turned around and addressed his council of ministers with an air of dictatorial leader. "Strengthen the border between regions, and scrutinize every soul crossing those lines. Brendant must face swift execution."

One of the ministers, ever the sensible thinker, chimed in, "May I suggest the dissemination of bounties throughout the realm, Your Majesty, to expedite the capture of the renegade commander?"

Herich remained silent, not dismissing the idea, then headed back his attention to Amarta, who had been released from the device that held her hands in a torturous position behind her, though she still wore shackles even when ostensibly free. "One more thing, Amarta. Your accusations hold no significance in mind, and I will turn them against you."

With a disdainful smirk, he continued, his focus shifting to the woman still cradled within Fiona's protective embrace. "Isn't this a splendid chance to increase my image with the people while dismantling your reign as their queen?"

His malevolence gave birth to a sardonic chuckle as he strolled away, leaving them to their plight. "Clean up this mess!" Herich's harsh command reverberated through the open area, drawing some bystanders back to the grim scene, while others dispersed.

A handful of high-ranking officials remained rooted in the spot, one of them offering a whispered apology, "Forgive me, Your Grace. There was little we could do." Gradually, they, too, retreated inside, leaving the echoes of despair and anguish to suspend in the air.

While Fiona endeavored to console Amarta, who appeared shattered from within, Amarta's body bore several welts, and her alabaster skin had taken on a red hue. With gentle, trembling fingers, she wiped away Amarta's tears. Her strength waned, striving to offer a smile for her niece.

"Thank you so much, Fiona," Amarta's voice was hoarse, barely rising above a whisper, bereft of vigor. "But you really shouldn't have intervened. It's too dangerous for you."

Fiona shook her head vehemently. "No, Auntie. I won't let this wickedness continue to befall you." She struggled to regain control of her sobs, her efforts to contain the tears in her eyes seemed futile. "I'm sorry. I never imagined my father could be so cruel."

Amarta, caressing Fiona's cheeks with maternal affection, whispered, "It's alright, sweet child. You need not apologize to me. I'm deeply grateful to you for being by my side all this time, for Alorian as well."

With tender softness and profound love, Amarta embraced Fiona, who once more dissolved into tears, unable to fathom the immense suffering Amarta had endured. She had been tortured in that cell, pregnant, and treated as a doll in front of an audience.

This woman was no common woman; she was the strongest queen known to Fiona, a queen who had inspired all the women of the realm of Caeloria.