Chapter 39: I Refuse |
Allen's breath hitched for a moment.
"Starting today, you'll live in my manor. Tomorrow, you'll return with me to Lordaeron. As for now—"
She stood with her back to the moonlight streaming through the window, her graceful figure flickering in and out of the shadows.
"Come serve me."
Was there really such a good...
No.
No way.
Was he, Allen, the kind of man who let his lower brain do the thinking?
Becoming Katrana's kept man sounded nice—and probably would be nice—but it was absolutely not a good thing.
This was definitely not what Allen wanted.
Ab!
So!
Lute!
Ly!
Not!
But if he refused her, what if she got furious and swallowed him right here and now?
Looked like he could only pretend to agree, then find a chance to slip away...
I'm being forced into this, I'll have to reluctantly enjoy it, right?
No... right?
In that moment, countless images flashed through Allen's mind—Wen Lei, Stella, Morgan, had they escaped? Varian Wrynn, that young king who trusted him, was his life hanging in the balance right now...
Milana... Milana's promise, still unfulfilled.
Could the Knock spell undo the ropes binding him? Would Command still work on Onyxia? Maybe he should just blast her with Chain Lightning and go out in a blaze of glory...
He didn't know what had come over him.
He lifted his head and stared straight at Lady Katrana before him.
All corruption starts with a single compromise...
Katrana watched the fraud before her. His gaze suddenly changed; she couldn't quite describe it, but it felt so... calm.
"I refuse."
Katrana couldn't believe it. She thought she'd misheard.
"What did you say?"
"I said—"
Allen's voice was calm but firm, each word deliberate and distinct:
"I! Re! fuse!"
That smooth-talking fraud was gone.
Now, the man tied up so tightly, there was no fear in his eyes. Only something indescribable, something that made her deeply uncomfortable.
Katrana flew into a rage. She snatched up her robe, her face freezing into an icy mask. She clapped her hands, the sound crisp and cold.
The door swung open. Several guards strode in, followed by Duke Marasmom, his face plastered with a sycophantic smile.
Allen's body tensed, ready to cast a spell, ready to fight for his life.
But Katrana's reaction caught him off guard.
"Take him away." Her voice was ice-cold. "Throw him into Stormwind's prison."
The guards grabbed Allen and dragged him out.
Allen didn't struggle. He didn't speak again. But just as he was being hauled through the doorway, he glanced back.
That look... it was impossible to read its meaning.
The door slammed shut.
Duke Marasmom stood there. He'd been eavesdropping outside and had caught snippets of their conversation.
So this proud Lady Katrana, who had never favored any man in Stormwind, also harbored such... filthy desires.
His breathing quickened. His greedy eyes slid over Katrana like a slimy tongue.
"Lady Katrana..." He dropped to his knees with a thud, crawling on all fours like a dog toward her. "I... I'm willing to serve you! I'd do anything for you! Anything! I'd even lick your toes if you commanded it!"
Katrana looked down at the worm squirming at her feet.
A flicker of disgust passed through her violet eyes.
Filthy vermin, daring to covet me.
She raised her hand.
A dark light coiled around her fingertips, like an invisible thread, gently wrapping around Duke Marasmom's neck.
The disgusting sycophantic smile was still plastered on his face.
Then, the smile froze.
His eyes bulged wide, his mouth gaped open, but no sound escaped. His body began to convulse. After a moment...
Thud.
He collapsed to the floor.
But his eyes, still wide open, stared up at the ceiling.
In those dead eyes, staring at nothing, lingered the last remnants of fear and confusion.
Katrana didn't spare him another glance.
She walked to the window and looked out at the nightscape of Stormwind.
Her mind couldn't calm down for a long time.
Allen Prestor.
Allen Prestor!
Allen Prestor!!!
This man actually dared to refuse me, actually dared to refuse me!
She had lived for ten thousand years, seen countless creatures grovel before her, seen countless humans kneel at her feet, seen countless so-called heroes turn into cowards before her.
But this fraud, this weakling, this ant she had tied up like a dumpling, who could be killed with a single thought—
He said "I refuse."
Katrana suddenly felt that everything about Stormwind had lost its appeal.
She didn't want to stay here anymore.
She raised her hand and waved. A set of elegant, casual clothes materialized out of thin air, draping over her body.
She pushed open the door and summoned the guard standing in the corridor outside—one of her true confidants, transformed from a dragonman via magic.
"Everything that needed to be done is done." Her voice had regained its usual lazy indifference. "Let's go. Back to Lordaeron."
The dragonman guard bowed.
"As you command, my lady."
-----------------
Allen woke up in a strange place.
The first thing he felt was the damp, chilly cold. Then came the smell—rotten straw, moldy stone, and the faint stench of excrement.
He opened his eyes.
Dim.
Rough stone walls surrounded him. The floor was wet stone slabs, covered with a thin layer of already-blackened straw.
Stormwind prison.
The deepest dungeon.
He struggled to sit up, only to find his right hand chained to an iron ring fixed in the wall.
"Oh, awake?"
A hoarse voice came from beside him.
Allen turned his head.
In the same cell, a filthy prisoner was staring at him.
The man was around thirty or forty, his face covered in stubble, his hair a tangled, matted mess.
He was sizing Allen up with a lecherous gaze.
"Pretty boy, new here?" He grinned, revealing a few yellowed teeth. "Know the rules? Newcomers pay tribute to the old-timers. You look soft and tender, should have some fat on you, right? Hand it over, and I'll have your back from now on. Otherwise..."
He stood up, staggered over, and reached out to slap Allen's face.
"Otherwise, I'll show you what it means to wish you were never bor—"
His voice died in his throat.
Allen's gaze fell upon him.
In those eyes, shadows surged.
It was as if something indescribable was watching this pathetic prisoner through those eyes.
That gaze landed on him, like the stare from an abyss.
The filthy prisoner's hand froze mid-air.
His legs started to give way.
Thud.
He plopped down onto the ground, mouth agape, unable to make a sound.
He watched the "pretty boy" slowly sit up straight. The chains clinked against his wrist, but they couldn't drown out the trembling that rose from the depths of his soul.
What was that...
He didn't know how he crawled back to the corner.
All he knew was that when those eyes finally looked away, he was already drenched in cold sweat, curled up in the corner of the cell, not daring to lift his head again.
Comments 1