"How's the situation outside?", asked Empress Pars, sitting in the garden looking out at the court, absentmindedly. After the pen ~ fun ~ Pavilion www.biquge.info captured Twright, she realized that she had taken a stuppy, and in that situation where she was angry and angry to the extreme, she lost her mind, and she couldn't handle her out-of-control emotions at all. As Twright continued to speak, the so-called civil rights force was also expanding.

As the master of this empire, the legitimate ruler of the empire, she is not afraid of challenges from the aristocratic class. The nobility sought nothing more than permanent titles, better fiefdoms, and more power. It can be said that Empress Pars has everything that the nobles want to have, and these things are not indispensable, as long as her conditions are met or when she has to choose, as long as she gives up something, it will definitely appease the attacks from the aristocratic group.

But Twright's demands were different from those of the aristocracy, what he had to do, what he needed, was something that Empress Pars could not give him.

It was because of fear that her emotions spiraled out of control, and she did the most wrong thing and arrested Twright.

Now the protesters outside the palace have not dispersed, and they want to find justice. If it had been before Twright's speech not long ago, these people would never have dared to stand up to the royal family's decision so strongly. It was Twright's speech that stirred up these people to seek some kind of "equality," which the rulers were the last thing they wanted.

Of course, politics is dirty, and everyone who stands outside of politics says so.

Their actions put Empress Pars in a dilemma, as if she was riding on the back of a wyvern, and the wyvern flew high into the clouds, making it easy for her to ride on, but difficult to get down. If she lets Twright go, it will inevitably increase the confidence of these people and give them enough motivation to cause more damage. If you don't let go, you will not only face these commoners, but also the Privy Council, the Council of Elders, and those noble groups.

Wade, who was standing behind Queen Pars, was kneading her shoulders with a pair of deft hands. Her Majesty the Moody Empress had been a source of deep fright, and he had woken him up from his dreams. He was destined to be a plaything of Her Majesty the Empress, and could never become a prince, or a duke, even a lowly nobleman. He, like the women who hide in dark corners behind those in power, will never have the opportunity to be on his own.

No one gives a toy to vent a formal identity, even if it doesn't require a lot of nobility.

The movement of his hands did not stop, and while continuing to knead the shoulders of the Empress Pars, he continued: "The rude and rude people who rest outside have receded a lot, and there are some diehards who have not left, and it seems that they intend to stay outside the palace for the time being. Also, I heard ......", he stopped halfway through his sentence, and Pars frowned and glared back at him, and Wade immediately lowered his head with a frightened countenance.

"Say!", this syllable was almost squeezed out of her teeth by Queen Pars, and the unfinished words that followed must not be nice words, she did not like them, but she must know.

"They say that if you are a tyrant and you don't let Count Tellett go, they won't leave until you acquit Count Tellett. ”

"Dream!", Queen Pars gritted her teeth and squeezed out two syllables, "I will not do what they want!

While the Empress of Pars was regretting her recklessness, Twright had already been sent to the Royal Prison after a brief review. The Royal Prison is like a castle in its own right, and its grey tones give it a desperate look. Every soldier, every executioner, and executioner had a gloomy aura from top to bottom, and they wore hoods or armor large enough to cover almost all of their faces, revealing only two cold eyes.

They look at the prisoners who are being held here like a rat, a rock, without the slightest human touch.

Locked up here, no matter how powerful they are outside, how famous they are, they all disappear the moment they enter here, and their only identity is only one, that is, political prisoners.

Twright's face was slightly pale, and he was shackled under his feet, and the steel chains dragged the ground as he walked, making the sound of metal grinding as he walked. He walked through the small corridor and entered the interior of the castle. In front of him were rows of pens up to the head cage. Many of the cages were empty, not messy, and looked like they were cleaned regularly. Some of the cages were inhabited in decent conditions, with a bed, a table, two stools, and daily equipment for grooming and excretion. The devices were firmly nailed to the ground, finger-thick rivets making it impossible for them to be moved in the slightest.

The prisoners' eyes were numb and cold, without a hint of light. Even if there are one or two eyes that are slightly smart, they are also frustrated.

The political prisoners held here will either die here and will not see the light of day for the rest of their lives, or they will be rushed to the execution ground and become the soul of the executioner.

"Get in!", the soldier behind him, who only showed his eyes, gave Twright a fierce push, Twright staggered forward and was pushed into a cage, the soldier's cold voice barely lacked emotion, "If you need anything, you can command us, books, or letters." Every day at 8 a.m., 12 p.m., and 7 p.m., you will be arranged to eat in the restaurant, and there will be a 15-minute break after the meal.

Twright looked down at his shackles, and the soldier crouched down, unshackled him, and locked the iron door.

Looking at the cold cage with no private space at all, Twright smiled bitterly, hoping that Wren's arrangement would work and get him out of this damn place as soon as possible.

For several days, without the slightest movement, he began to get agitated. He didn't know what was going on outside, and he didn't know what kind of backhand Wren had arranged to help him get out of here. In the endless waiting, little by little his emotions began to run wild.

He kept walking back and forth, sitting down when he was tired and standing up when he had rested enough. He asked the soldier for a few books, but he couldn't read a word.

Just as he was about to lose his mind, he was resting after lunch that day when a fellow prisoner approached him.