“It won’t come to that, sir... At least, I hope not.” We three find a seat in the gallery and to watch the proceedings. A moment later, a well dressed young man in Thul colors struts into the hall. A man at the door announces him as Baron Stefan Thul.
I lean over to Jerus and whisper. “Hmm... this guy has a very punchable face.”
I settle myself onto my throne, looking out at the people in the gallery to watch the reception. I make quick eye contact with Jerus Je’and before looking down at the man standing before me. “Now, Baron Thul. What brings you to Organa Lands?”
Bows. “My dear Lord Organa. Allow me to get straight to the point. Earlier today, my father’s loyal guard discovered a plot against your house. A group of armed individuals made contact with us, offering us a hefty bribe to allow them safe passage onto Alderaan so that they may strike against your home.” Looks out at the gallery of loyal Organa subjects. “My father REFUSED. Instead, he had these men arrested and put in chains.”
I give a concerned, but skeptical look. “If this is true, than House Organa is thankful for your father’s loyalty. It is unlikely that the previous Lord of House Thul would have turned down such an offer.”
“That is the past, Lord Organa. The war is over, my grandfather is dead, and House Thul wishes to prove that we are not only loyal to the crown, but to our fellow houses. Since these men sought to act against your house, we felt it should be your decision as to what should be done with them.” I turn to the far doors and call, “Bring in the prisoners!”
The doors open, and a retinue of both Organa and Thul guards walk in, leading in four people, each of them wearing a sack over their heads. They are brought to the center of the audience chamber and forced to their knees. One by one, they are unmasked; the first is a dark skinned man with a shaved head except for a long rat tail braid. The second is a pale woman with unkempt hair the color of blood. The third is a Devaronian with horned filed into sharp points, and the fourth...
It’s like staring into a distorted mirror. The man knelt on the floor, hands cuffed behind his back... he glared with my eyes. He sneered with my teeth. The sweat matted hair that clung to his forehead was the same dark color as my own.
“Gendry,” I whisper.
My eyes widen, and I freeze up like an animal caught in high beam lights.
