The Interrogation
By: Maritza Lara
Based on Ryoko Ikeda's The Rose of Versailles


Am I the demon they make me out to be? Or am I ,
perhaps, another tragic hero doomed to be unsung? 
However it may be, I really could not give much a damn.
I did what I had to do.
For survival? Perhaps. Out of vengeance? 
Possibly. Or could it have been for the sake of
self-indulging adventure to help rid my soul from the
damn boredom caused from staying home? Hmm? 
Whatever the reason, it is mine alone.
I hate the smell of this place. It's so damp and
musty, so urine infested and plagued with the
nauseating stench of death, it causes my stomach to 
contract and turn in disgust. They ought to fire the
housekeeper.
The lighting is ridiculously poor. There are no
windows, just torchlight. I surmise they are worried
I just might break loose from THIS dungeon. What an
insult to my intelligence!
I have no idea how long I've been contained in this
cell. The guards have informed me three days…it
feels an eternity.
All I know is that my dancing card has been filled
with a quieu of visitors DYING to see me. Of course,
whomever is dumb enough to venture these dark, eerie
corridors outside my cell.
There's nothing in my cell except for a stone bed,
two rats, plenty of cockroaches, and, yes, a small
table in the middle of the room with two chairs
facing opposite one another. What more could a woman
of my stature want? I am being sardonic. Naturally.
Earlier today,…hell, I don't know what hour…this 
prick came to see me. When the cell door opened, I
had no other choice but to look at whomever decided
to invade my space. Upon entering, his eyes glared
with fire. This was very threatening to me.
The only thing that kept me from leaping off my bed
and assailing the bastard was the one table purposely
placed there between the both of us. Eventhough, it
wouldn't have held me back, either.
I think I wanted to demonstrate how civilized I can
be.
Anyhow, he's no doubt a military officer but, how
evident! The "gentleman"was standing directly in
front of me with a posture to envy, which is entirely
most common in all military men among the tight-assed
aristocratic society which results in more of a
cliché than a disciplinary formality. Besides that,
I don't think his chevrons were simply for show.
From my shadowy crevice, I watched him. I spied a
medium sized envelope tucked under his left underarm.
He made no further attempt to advance. But his eyes
remained unstill. They searched quickly but
strenuously for me throughout the dimness of my cell.
I held my breath, keeping still. However, much to
my avail, he managed to pinpoint my location. That
was quick enough!
Without turning his head, he ordered the guard
outside to close the cell door. Not once he took his
eyes off me. In silence, he advanced towards the
table and moving with the precision of a wound up
doll, he set the envelope upon its surface.
Before taking his seat, he briefly introduced
himself as Captain Victor-Hilare de Verne, a military
lawyer . His voice lacked human warmth…something I
yearned for. Not once he faltered in his speech. 
However, he wasn't sent to me to be my defender, if
not, my confessor. After that, I was reluctant to
hear anymore of what he had to say, proceedure-wise.
I rolled up my eyes. 
He finaly took his seat, pulling many sheets of
paper from the envelope. There was already a quill
and flask of ink waiting for him ,set in the middle
of the table, provided for his needs.
His manner was serious.
Alas, I thought MY room would get the best of me
for I don't do very well in confined spaces. 
However, its not this room that perturbed me the most
at that very instant…it was his penetrating gaze.
His light brown orbs burrowed profoundly into the
very heart of my soul. Captain de Verne is far from 
being a fool. This bothers me everly so. Mon Dieu,
I must be exhausted!
"I suppose you DO know what you're in here for ?,"
the sound of his voice was soft but far from lacking
masculinity, I must admit.
I would have been more content driving him insane by
not answering thus, the silence was torturous. I
decided to answer…without coming out of the shadows.
"Yes, I AM fully aware." 
"Are you, AT ALL, ashamed of what you've done?"
Sheesh! What an idiotic question!
"It all depends on how you look at it." I think I
smirked.
" Because of you, two nobles are dead."
Two nobles?! When in HELL did TWO NOBLES get into
this?! What an outrage!
" What do you want me to do about it? They have
gotten in the way." I think I had just signed my own
death warrant.
"Are you sure they just GOT in the way?" Sarcastic
prick! Two can play it THIS game.
"If I don't remember them, they must've gotten in
the way. Anyway, Officer, does it really matter now?
They're dead…that's how I'd like to keep it."
"Have you no heart?!" Obviously, he's pissed.
"Now, why would you care? Didn't I murder two
nobles?" His brown orbs doubled, no, tripled in size.
By the expression engraved on his visage, I knew
this was about to be the longest interview of my
life…and so it was. De Verne made sure of it, also. 
He wasn't about to make this easy on me.
After awhile, I finally decided to crawl out of my
shadowy hiding place and join him at the table. 
Captain de Verne and I stared eye to eye. This man,
I could tell, lacked a good sense of humor. I guess
his wife failed to fulfill him last night, neither
had she given him what he wanted the night before.
What a shame, he's such a young man. I estimate
one, two, or three years my senior. I found him an
interestingly amusing and attractive kind of man. 
Possibly under different circumstances, I would have…
"Why the Sabre Fox?" Another stupid question.
"Isn't it obvious? I'm quick with the sabre and
clever as a fox. I have a knack for foxing my way
out of a seemingly impossible situation," I retorted,
buffing my nails against my chemise. 
"Until now…", he said this to torment me," Well?"
I smiled. " You have such beautiful eyes."
" You are evading the question." So young and yet,
so antisocial. Think fast!
I straightened up leaning over the table. " I want
you to understand something, CAPTAIN. I was caught
because I CHOSE to be caught. The Sabre Fox does not
get captured out of mere negligence…I'm TOO GOOD to
SIMPLY be captured by the inept military police so
you can shove it wherever you see it MOST proper. 
Tell that to Colonel de Gerodere!" That was telling
him! Although, I think that gained me more apathy. 
Despite of that, De Verne did not flinch. He
remained as straight faced as ever.
"Why?", he asked me, cooly.
Why? Because I wanted him to tell de Gerodere or
does he have a bit too much cotton embedded in his
ears?!
I leaned back on my chair before directing his
question with yet another question. "What do you
mean by, why?"
"Why did you 'choose' to be caught?" Oh, that
bothersome question.
"The fact of the matter is that I didn't 'choose' to
be captured and lessly by de Gerodere."
This time, De Verne's eyes quadrupled in size!
"But you said…?"
"I know what I said but it's only HALF true."
"Half true? Please explain…", he laced his fingers
before me, demonstrating an air of arrogance,"…Entice
me."
Oh, I'll do better than that you BASTARD!, I thought
to myself.
"The truth is, I turned myself in."
So much for better.
Not much to my surprise, he grinned in disbelief. I
didn't know he had so many teeth!
"You expect me to believe this?," he directed me
with cynisism.
"No." At least, I answered honestly.
"Not acceptable!"
"Not my problem!"
"Well, it ought to be of great concern to you,
madame! In case you are not aware, you COULD lose
your life for this!"
"COULD?", he's SO funny," COULD?! MY, Officer de
Verne, I do fancy your excellent choice of words." 
Then, there was silence. It was my chance to tell
him how I felt. "Why don't you just SHOOT ME, right
now?! Why don't you just say it the way it REALLY
is and cease disguising the fact as if it were a
silver lighting in the sky?!" I'm usually not
histerical. I was just acting.
"I'm not disguising," his response seemed so
concrete yet, I prefer the benefit of the doubt.
"Say it like it is, De Verne. Say I'm going to
die…I rather you confess me the truth. We both know
I'm doomed to die before a heavily armed firing
squad. Am I not?" Now, I found myself lacing my
fingers before this insufferable man!
He uttered nothing; just glared.
I couldn't help myself. I , too, decided on playing
this little game of his and shot him a stare more
menacing than his own. Of course, He was not
impressed. "Nevertheless," I began,"I suppose in
your own sadistic way you are striving to make me
feel better about my irreversable circumstance…heh! 
You are ONE sick son-of-a-bitch, De Verne…Just like
the rest of those bastards in Versailles."
He continued glaring, like I care. Possibly, if it
were up to him, he's like nothing better than to wrap
his own thick, smooth-as-butter hands around my
delicate sculptured neck. It's not such a bad way to
die, especially, in the arms of SUCH an attractive
man. If I had the chance to do this over, without
second thought, I'd do this again.
Now, there was something bothering me. Since he had
arrived, not once had he picked up the quill or
leafed through any of the papers he brought with him.
This began concerning me.
"Why did you turn yourself in to the hands of the
authorities?", he asked me.
Was that the best he could do?!
"You mean Colonel de Gerodere?"
It was obvious I was no longer in the mood. 
"If you choose to rephrase it that way?"
I leaned over the table, again. "Is it not an
ending worthy of me?" Where do I come up these
things?!
Suddenly, he sat back. Good! I have his attention.
"Think of it, De Verne. When France's greatest foe
turns herself over to one of France's 'finest'
military heroes, she became even more a celebrity
than when she was out nights dressed in black awing
her persuers with death-defying somersaults. What
better than that?"
However, the prick had something else in mind.
"I don't think that's truly the reason," he confessed.
I don't know how it happened or why but, suddenly,
not knowing what came over me, I bursted out in
hysterical laughter. I couldn't help it. This
display of mine didn't sit well with him. It was
obvious by the borish look painted on his face.
Still laughing, he annoyingly cuts in with, "What do
you find SO amusing?"
"You, of course!," Still laughter.
"And , why?"
"Because, De Verne, I'm surprised the Crown EVEN 
pays you to think."
"What?"
I was beginning to calm down a little. "Yes…knowing
ALL you courtiers are nothing more and nothing less
than royal marionettes having your strings pulled in
all directions you can't tell which is right and
which is left. Why do you think I broke away from
THIS madness? Why do you think I decided it was time
for me to walk on my own? Why?", I posed the
question to him. 
He said nothing.
" I broke free before giving THEM the chance to RUN 
the rest of MY life," I paused, "You know what it's
like to get up in the morning not being able to dress
yourself, to choose clothes for yourself? It's
tedious enough to be constantly told how to properly
behave; the tea parties to attend to when you are
REALLY not feeling up to the task."
Again, he said nothing, I continued.
"That is something a TIGHT-ASSED aristocrat like
yourself would never understand even if the truth sat
before you staring, mockingly, in your face." I was
dead serious. "Well, then, I might as well make this
moment worth every sou you are being paid. Although,
I believe Her GREAT Majesty, Marie Antoinette, causes
POOR De Verne , here, to waste his valuable, precious
time when HE could be home frolicking happily with
his wife," I sneered. At the same time, I hoped
this was enough to extract a reaction from him.
"How dare you mock?!", he scolded.
What he meant to say was, ' How dare you mock,
BITCH!', judging by the tone of his accusation.
"Mock? You think I'm making a mockery out of this
charade?," What I just said there made terrible
nonesense,"No, Captain, I just tell the truth the way
the way I see it…the truth YOU choose to ignore. 
Why, you may ask? Because you are a mere puppet of
the court and Marie Antoinette doesn't give a HELL'S
DAMN about YOU or anyone else she rules over but
herself. How's that for mockery?"
At present, I made him quite angry. However, he
managed to maintain his composure. "You have NO
right," he simply said.
I SNAPPED LIKE A TWIG. Now, I was angry; I pounded
the table with my fist to create emphasis. "What do
you know about rights?!", I startles him," Have you
EVER scraped the streets for food?! Have you EVER
worked EXTREMELY HARD to the point of having your
hands and knees bleed only to receive a MISERABLE
salary?!," I believe I had hit a nerve. Now, which
one? That's beyond me. "Have you ever paid
ridiculous taxes for cultivating land that you do not
own?"
He responded with only, " You betray your class."
"Class…whatever do you mean?"
"Lower…Higher…"
"You mean the OPPRESSED and the OPPRESSORS?", I made
sure to correct his incompetence, "In case you don't
know, I am NO longer part of the oppressing class," 
I answered him proudly.
"What?"
"You seem surprised, why?"
His face twisted in confusion.
"My father disinherited me years ago. The only
thing I have left is an EMPTY TITLE. Sad, isn't
it?," I hinted a bit malicious. De Verne,
stupefactly, nodded. "Don't feel sad…au contraire,
nobility can be a REAL KICK IN THE ASS." 
There was silence. Captain de Verne was rather
pensative. Anyone could tell from by the manner he
lowered his eyes. Such eyes! He, then, looked down
upon his papers. I knew he did this to stall. All
nobles do this to save face. I knew he didn't know
what else to say.
What did I do? I just sat still in the gap of
silence observing his every move. Something, as if a
thought, caught his eye. He moved into the table to
grab for the quill…and after all this time. He,
finally, dipped the sharp tipped plume into the flask
of liquid soot and began writing.
From where I was sitting, I could easily see he was
writing about me. His comments and observations, no
doubt. I spied his fluid use of the word, 'cynical',
upon describing me. Yes, "cynical", "heartless",
"unbalanced"…"unbalanced"? That's ridiculous! I
have perfect balance! NOT ONCE have I fallen off a
wall! Oh, and here's my favorite, "calculating
predator". Predator? Moi?!
Out of pity, I decided to answer the poor man's
question.
"You really want to know why I turned myself in?", I
was trying to sound mysterious.
"What?," he looked up.
Gosh, I hate having to repeat myself. 
"You really want to know why I turned myself in?"
"Yes."
"Well, Captain, I turned myself in because of a
promise I made to a dear friend." Two thousand
francs say he doesn't believe me.
"A promise?" One of his eyebrows arched in
skepticism when he asked this. I'm not the least bit
surprised.
"Do I hear an echo?" His eyebrows now bunched
together. And, honestly, it gave me GREAT PLEASURE
to see him annoyed by my remark. "Believe me, it
wasn't very hard to live up to."
"I'd hate to inquire but, why is that?" 
I simply replied, "I'm tired of running."
"Well, if you're tired of running, why commit these
crimes in the first place?!"
I kept calm.
"Answer my question!", he demanded.
Again, I simply replied, "It has its perks."
"You DO know that TREASON isn't TOLERATED?"
"With you constantly reminding me, how can I
forget?", I meant to be sarcastic.
"Well, then, let me remind you again. TREASON ISN'T
TOLERATED."
"Neither is abuse and hunger."
"So, you mean to tell me one night you decided to
become a self-proclaimed vigilante because you were
TIRED of witnessing the poor being taken advantage of
or, simply for the 'perks'?"
"Not exactly. At first, I was in it for
myself…Whomever paid me more than well enough," I
stated.
"I see. And what exactly did you do as the Sabre
Fox?" Another stupid question. I swear, this will
be the end for me.
"A little bit of everything to broaden my horizons."
"Including murder?"
"If necessary."
"It says here you were ordered…Who would order you?"
"I rather not say."
"Why not?"
"Why, De Verne, if I told you, you wouldn't believe
me."
"Robespierre?"
"Robespierre?! N'est-ce pas!"
"He has nothing to do with you?"
"We may believe in the same cause but, no! I worked
for someone MUCH higher in rank than you and I."
"You lie."
"If you say so. The only thing I say is that I used
to receive my 'salary' from high up; the crown
treasury."
"You speak treason. For this you are aware…?"
"About losing my life? Yes."
"Are you afraid?"
"Of what, De Verne? Burning in the eternal flames
of hell?!", These words captured more his attention. 
In his eyes, I don't doubt I am an OBJECT of
wonderment. The stage was ALL mine. "Perhaps, I
am. Then again…is there EVEN a hell to begin with? 
I won't believe it until I see it with my own blue
eyes."
"Then, you have NO regrets?"
"I don't doubt know really. However, Captain, if
you ask me again later, perhaps, Ill have the answer
for you." I smirked as freshly as a head of lettuce.
"I'd like to know now, madame."
The little prick was demanding me. How dare he?!
"What part of LATER do you NOT understand?!"



After an hour of this tedious questioning, Captain
de Verne decided to step outside for air. The guard
informed me it was lunch. He was kind enough to
bring me my food. I Believe his name is Denis
Bertrand, a private. Unlike his companion, whom
prefer to spend their monotonous hours jeering at me,
he's been very nice to me. In fact, he invents any
lame excuse to just speak to me. I can't help but
sense that this man feels sorry for me.
"Here you are, madamoiselle, the specialty of the
kitchen," he said with a great, big smile.
"I hope it doesn't move." He, then, snorted a laugh.
"No, it shouldn't."
I had to ask. "You are so different from all the
others. Why as you SO nice with me?"
About to speak, another guard called him from
outside. "Bertrand, what's keeping you?!"
He turned around. "I'll be right out! Give me a
minute!"
"Alright, but if our commander comes it's your
funeral."
"Thanks!" He quickly turned to face me. "I hope,
madamoiselle, you do enjoy the bread, the steamed
vegetables, and the mutton. I'll return to collect
the tray."
"You haven't answered my question." I beamed.
He smiled and finally replied, "I don't think you are
all what they say you are, madamoiselle."
"And who are THEY?"
"The nobles, the Queen, all of them. But, I still
don't believe the filth they say. At least, not all
of it." I could tell he was just trying to be
polite. Nevertheless, I admire his honesty.
I was immediately moved by his words.
"I'm deeply touched by such a gallant gesture but
what makes you think that all they say is not true? 
Looks can deceive, Private."
For an instant there was silence, but Private
Bertrand did not hesitate to answer. "With all do
respect, madamoiselle, but my mother would have this
saying…"
"Which is?"
"The eyes are the windows to the soul…and you have
such beautiful eyes. Now, if you would excuse me I
have rounds to do." Before he left, he tripped his
cap and graced me with another BIG smile. He left.
His words left me rather pensative. Could it be
true, his words, the eyes being the windows to the
soul.
The specialty of the house was better from the meal I
had the day before and the day before that. Now, for
certain, I know I'm GOING TO DIE! 
I have no idea how much time had passed before De
Verne decided to return. I really wasn't in the mood
for more questioning. How joyous!
"Received many visitors?"
"Does this have ANY relevance to my case?"
"No. I just want to know how many people ACTUALLY
care enough about you to even come visit you?" I
have it that lunch didn't go too well.
"Quite a lot. If you want numbers, I didn't care to
count."
"Strange, Madame. According to my notes, it reads
here that you have received the best instruction
money can buy?" He's incredible! The bastard was
mocking me!
"And by the manner you are treating me it appears you
received your education through correspondence coarse!
"Don't waste my time!"
"Whose fault is that?! I'm tired!"
"Honestly, Madame, if it were up to me, I wouldn't be
here!"
"Then what's stopping you from getting up from that
chair and storming out that door?"
"Orders from high up, Madame."
"You see? You're a marionette."
He swiftly changed the subject on me. Prick!
"I heard your father was here, early yesterday."
I rolled my eyes. "Yes, he was."
"What did he say?"
"Nothing…absolutely, nothing. He remained standing
at the door staring at me...wait, that's not right. 
He was staring right THROUGH me as if he didn't know
me and left."
"He didn't talk to you? Not even a word?" I think
he was moved.
"Not even. My mother arrived afterwards. She
couldn't talk, the poor thing. She was a crying
mess. Doesn't surprise me, though. Mother does
nothing else BUT cry. It's SO sad."
"I heard Colonel de Gerodere came to see you, also,"
he continued.
"Hmph! Not everyday you see a grown man break down
in tears and beg you to answer, why?"
"Apparently, you mean a lot to him."
I smirked. "Not really… he's just embarrassed for
the many times I've outsmarted him."
"How can you be so smug about this?"
"And how can you feel so comfortable to hearing
yourself talk such stupidities? Continue with the
questioning and stop wasting such valuable time!"
He silenced a while.
I waited patiently for his words, which were harsh. 
However, I cannot deny that his voice had a cryptic
fashion to comforting me.
"Count von Fersen was also here."
"It was really nice of him to come pity me. I'm
amazed he doesn't hold a grudge towards me. Poor
womanizing fool." I laughed and I laughed, HARD.
De Verne, as accustomed, remained calmly serious. I
sensed he didn't like me.
I continued laughing like a maniacal she-demon. He
glared with bloodthirsty anger. I could easily feel
his wrath drilling into me with heated passion. 
Alas, I still say ' if only we have met under
different circumstances'.
He was not amused. You could notice the borish look
on his face.
He interrupted my fun to say," He didn't have to come."
"What's wrong with you, my good man?," I asked, still
in a state of hysterical laughter. "Not getting
enough oxygen to your brain? Of course, he had to
see me! It would have been sacriligious if he
didn't. Besides," I added, in matter of factly,
"Count Axel von Fersen is 'practically' part of the
family." I was sarcastic, of course.
"Judging by your tone, you seem not to hold him in
the highest esteem?" De Verne was very perceptive of
things.
"I don't approve of that womanizing bastard."
"And how do you see our Queen?"
I knew this was trap of some kind. No point in
disappointing the man.
"It takes TWO to minuet, if you get my point?" By
this time, I demonstrated serenity.
"Are you speaking treason, Madam?"
"I'm just answering your question, sir. But, I'm
sure you are doing this only to entrap me. No
denying it."
De Verne was silent once more.
"I see…well then, let me make this moment worth every
sou you are earning, now, that I'm embarking a
journey to the here beyond… I suggest you DO write
THIS down, sir." I emphasized.
"You can't be serious?!"
"Is this the face of a dying woman?" He sat back. 
"Now, I start…and what I'm going to say I'll only say
it once and ONLY once! If you are not quick enough
to capture my taunting but melodious words on paper,
that's frighteningly TOO bad because I'm terribly
tired of having to repeat myself ALL the time when I
could be better off dying in solitude."
Reluctantly, he grasped the quill to commence taking
down my statement. I must REALLY make this REAL good
for all posperity to read and kill themselves from
laughter.
I was extremely pleased from his sudden change in
attitude, if you can call it that? Anyhow, I felt
myself in control again. It was just like the old
days when I had everything my way…when I had my
servants running back and forth like decapitated
chickens and ,perhaps, hating my guts.
I won't deny I use to indulge the attentions paid to
me. The jewels, the furs, the fancy balls…how I miss
that!
Funny thing, though. Now, I sunk myself to the level
of a side-show freak; everyone tends to judge you. 
Although, I think that even a side-show freak has
more integrity, more dignity than I would EVER have
in a lifetime.
Alas.
"Well?", De Verne was impatient, not that I would
blame the man.
"Marie Antoinette is as human and as mortal as WE
are. I don't consider her or any member of the Crown
better than I am. Nor would I EVER imply their
superiority over me. I won't allow that. I am TOO
proud of whom I am. And I don't need that Austrian
bitch, her entorage, or anyone else with nothing
better to do tell me how to run my life." I paused. 
He kept writing. " I freed myself from the chains
that bounded me in ignorance. I DO NOT need crap
shoved down my throat, for I am a free individual,
sir! An individual capable of making her own
decisions regardless if they'd be correct or, if
they'd be incorrect. However, at least, I can say
that I'm enjoying the options FREE WILL has to offer.
For the first time, I can be my own person."
"What is your point to this?"
"My point, to put it simply…We should never allow a
society up upper class pigs choose for us. The way I
see it there shouldn't be a distinction of classes or
any other distinctions at all. We are ALL thinking
individuals; rich and poor alike. Instead of hating
one another we should all unite for a better world,
an improved France…Of course, I do not expect you to
understand. HELL! Not even I understood it myself at
first. But, it took just ONE person to open my eyes."
"Naming?" 
"His name is of no importance to you. I rather drag
that to the grave."
"So, what is he? A lover of yours?" I sensed the
sarcasm in what he said.
"Hardly!" Now, I was serious!
He ceased penning my words to do what he did best…to
glare at me. Believe me, this was beginning to be
cliché. He was NOT amused by my reply. I begged to
differ.
"How could we have anything in common with the
commoners?! They are inferior to us!"
At least, I must applaud him for not continuing on
the subject of me having a possible lover.
"If we came to THIS world the same way, you know, via
our mothers' wombs, we eventually leave it the same
way, through death. I don't doubt we use the crapper
the very same way as well." I smiled a little smile.
"Now, unless we shit gold and HER MAJESTY a crock of
diamonds, we are o different from the commoners we
were meant to protect. We are NOT of Mount Olympus,
Captain! And it's about time OUR QUEEN understood
that fact as well before the masses of France decide
that it's about enough and feed her to the dogs!"
"Our Queen is NOT perfect, yet, she is STILL our
Queen!"
"If she doesn't stop with her frivolous spending and
childish caprices, she'll be a DEAD queen."
He scowled.
"France is tired of living under dispotic rule. 
France wants a change, she DEMANDS a change!"
"France this, France that…you talk about what France
wants, Madame. What do YOU want?" He had a point, I
did want something, after all, I AM going to die for
treason.
"Justice." That was the only word that came to mind.
"Justice?"
"Justice for every single tear I bled," I declared. 
DE Verne seemed confused.
"For every single tear bled? I don't quite
comprehend, my Lady."
"I want the aristocracy to pay for everything they
made me suffer. I want then to drop on bare knees
begging me forgiveness. I want to bury the past. 
That's what I want."
"Why?"
"Since the moment I was born, I was caused to
agonize. I didn't have a blissful childhood. Too
much was expected of me. It was more than what I
could give. And I 'm ashamed to say my father is
greatly at fault for my misfortunes."
"You love your father?" Sheesh!
"I don't know," I answered in earnest. I ,then ,
sighed.
"You don't know?!"
"NO, I DON'T!"
I knew De Verne didn't believe me. But, yes, I
didn't know whether or not I felt love towards the
man who raised me to be what I am…a bitter, selfish
human being. Strange thing, I'm not so sure he loves
me , either.
Father and I never saw eye to eye. However, that
never stopped anyone, including the town idiot from
commenting how much I resembled THIS man. They
always said it was the eyes or his mouth or his nose
(damn, I have a pretty nose) or, they especially
would emphasize, the violent temperament. That never
failed to easily roll from their lips. 
I must admit they're totally with reason.
"I advise you to calm down!"
"Or what?!"
"You know exactly what happens to traitors!"
"You arrogant bastard! What makes you think I can't
kill you where you sit?!"
"Hmph! What MIGHTY words coming from an unarmed
WOMAN!"
"I don't threaten, SIR!" 
"I believe you TALK to much!"
"Funny, the very last man who said just that
accidently stumbled into the pointy end of my
sword…Died slowly." 
"You find this a joke, Sabre Fox?"
"Life itself is a joke, Captain, and I am sitting
directly on top of it."

Yes, life is a joke. Unfortunately, De Verne did not
buy into that philosophy. He wanted so desperately
to leave my sight and not see me again. I did my
job. 
Who was to blame the deprived bastard?
After half an hour, by his clock, he was determined
to wrap things up for today. Within myself I was
overjoyed.
With all the documents back in the envelope, he
bidded me farewell. 
"Adieu, dear lady. I SHALL return to further
continue questioning you," he informed, straight-faced.
"How fortunate of me?" Hmmm, my knight in shining
armor informs me upon his return and NOW I'm the one
NOT amused of this news.
"It's procedure."
Who the hell cares about procedure if all I can
think about is a warm bad close to a burning, no,
sizzling fire place and no one to share it with.
"It tires me." Was the only thing I could say.
"What else doesn't surprise me?" 
"For one thing, I'd rather you kill now with ONE 
swipe of your sword at my delicate neck or my tender,
aching heart."
"Don't exaggerate, dear lady. It doesn't seat well
with thee, besides, my sword will p art in two if at
instant contact with your heart," he, naturally, was
being sardonic.
"I'm going to die anyway. I know you wish to be the
hand pulling the trigger."
Once again, he ignored my comment due to fatigue.
"Adieu, Madame, jusqu'a la fois prochaine." He then
called the guard to open the iron door. Once
ajarred, De Verne stole one last galnce at me and
departed. The door closed shut. I was alone.
Mon Dieu, I never thought he'd EVER leave!
Strange as it is, I do not feel myself out of the
proverbial woods, yet.
_______________________________________________________


Long after the Captain's departure, I had let the
darknes of the place engulf me slowly. I had to
clear my mind…I couldn't.
De Verne's attitude towards me has left me disturbed,
if not irritated. I must be dreadfully tired.
After two hours, I think, I was served dinner. This
time, I was given chicken pie with a side of
vegetables and cherry cobbler. I , definitely, now
know I'm doomed to die! Just the thought of it
causes me to chuckle.
Throughout my emprisonment, being it three days and
not yet a trail, many have come to see me, to pity
me, to gawk at me…no surprise. My family, most of
all, shook their heads in disbelief asking me, 'How
could you?', which to my opinion, cliché, cliché ,
cliché! Well, I figured a cliched question deserved
a cliched answer, 'The devil made me do it!' Of
course, I wish I would've said it. I mean, it's be
much easier than giving them an answer measuring a
mile high. But, still, I surmise I owe them THAT
much for embarrassing them in front of society.
It's true what I said to De Verne about my father. 
Any fact concernig him needs not to be invented. He
came before anyone else could. It's his nature. He
stood there, staring at me with a gaze that
demonstrated a coldness I've never seen before. Not
that he hasn't always been cold with me. 
He forced me to feel like glass. He looked at me as
though I were glass. Right then, I knew. I knew he
wanted nothing else to do with me. There were no
more chances. Not this time.
Father left without saying a word. There wasn't even
a grunt of disapproval.
Mother, naturally, is a different story. I rather
not elaborate. It'll just break my heart.
A thought just came to mind. Actually, it's quite
funny now that I think of it. Just imagining a
tight-ass like Gerodere crying like a girl brings a
smile to my face. Hey, if I ever felt insufficient
before, his act just boosted my self-esteem.
While Fersen was here, I couldn't help yawning a
couple of times. His lecture (YAWN), ooh. There goes
another one….his lecture, well, not really a lecture,
it was more like anestesia, a fate I would NEVER
wish upon my most worst enemy. But, my point,
exactly, is that he was telling me all this crap and
blah, blah,blah. I wanted to kill him…really I did. 
Perhaps that's the reason why most women of the court
gave more emphasis on his tumbling abilities than his
eloquent skill at coming up with entertaining subject
matter.
Fardles! I think what is that, at least, he came to
see me and check on my well being…wow.
Hmmm? What's this? Have I been thinking too long
not to notice how musty and stinky this hole is?
Geeeeee! It smells like cat piss in here! They
definitely MUST fire the housekeeper. Jesus, no
wonder I haven't had much of an appetite. I've been
in stables that smelled nicer than this shit hole. 
What distant sound is that, that I hear?
"Right this way, sir." I heard a familiar voice
coming from afar.
He's BAAAAACK!!!!
Just to think I was beginning to miss the man.
Hmmm? Let's see what story I can tell De Verne now. 
Should I tell him on how sad my childhood was? Maybe
I can tell him about the time I went to the
marketplace with my sister and saw this doll I wanted
so badly…she was SO pretty; ruffles and everything. 
But, THEN, my sister wanted it, too. I couldn't let
her have it! It was, well, you get the picture. 
It's really tragic how it ended, though. Especially,
the part where my sister died from massive head
trauma. I felt victorious until the part where my
father had to pay for the damages done…it wasn't a
pretty picture. I was left with no supper and a
headless doll. You can guess who was allowed to keep
the head or, at least, what was left of it?
Never mind all this garbage, let me get ALL prissied
up to receive the incomparable Captain Victor-Hilare
de Verne, something-something title of
I-don't-care-what.
Ooh, here he comes. I could hear the clicking and
clacking of two pairs of heavy boots. Should I hide
to pounce on him?
"Private Bertrand?! To what do I owe this
honor?…It's not time for LIGHTS-OUT, yet, is it?"
His gaze was unusually distant, I notice.
"You have a visitor," he spoke to me as if he didn't
know me. And said this in a low tone which made me
feel confused; like it were a big secret.
"So, bring IT on!," Yes, bring it on before my
arrogance gets the best of me. Out of hurt, I
bursted, "What other insignificant person could
visit me , now!" 
He didn't respond for awhile. I demanded an answer.
"I think you might swallow those words." How DARE he
speak to me in such a manner?! I'm deeply appalled! 
I thought he was different form the others. To think
I was starting tofancy him.
Of course, it wasn't until I noticed the figure
standing right in back of him that I understood what
Private Bertrand meant. Indeed, I swallowed my
words, once I realized I was face to face with my
reason of being here. SHIT!!!!
"Hi. Thought you might want some of Granny's World
Famous Beef Stew?"
That voice…that voice, that I've so long yearned for,
was filled with warmth and kindness. It is this same
voice that, now, makes me fully aware of my sins and,
at the same time, ashamed of what I've become.
This voice, whose pronounced sound, did not echo in
my ears, if not, within the throbbing pain of my
chest, was the one I have so longingly yearned for
since the day I was born. It could comfort me at
this moment; for only five minutes of my miserable
life.
It brought into me the sorrow of what may or could've
been. For this moment, this instance, I found myself
eagerly waiting for its truthful end and…my blissful
death.


The End

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