Olivia finally lifted her eyes.
She looked first at Roland's gaunt, pathetic frame, then at the heavy Imperial knights standing nearby.
"Take him to the shore."
The knights moved instantly.
They seized Roland by his frail arms and began dragging him toward the muddy riverbank, where a small, flat-bottomed wooden boat lay anchored in the shallow water.
Confusion spread rapidly among the spectating nobles.
"Is she planning to drown him?"
"Perhaps she intends to send him into exile down the river?"
"Why go through all this trouble for a simple execution?"
Olivia paid their mindless whispers no attention.
She handed Black to an attendant and approached Roland as he was dragged onto the mud. From the inner pocket of her dark mantle, she drew a small glass vial filled with a thick, pale-amber liquid.
Roland looked at the vial, his hollow eyes narrowing in sudden suspicion.
"What... what is that?" he rasped, his voice sounding like dry leaves dragging across stone.
