"Well," The woman said, her voice smooth and amused, as though she had stumbled upon a spectacle for her entertainment. "Aren't you pitiful?"
Nicholas' lips parted, but no words came. He was too weak to ask who she was, too broken to even beg for help.
She tilted her head, eyes glinting with something unreadable, and with a flick of her fingers, she gave an order. "Pick him up. Toss him in."
The driver obeyed, gripping Nicholas' battered body and hauling him into the carriage with as much care as one would a sack of grain. Nicholas groaned, the motion reopening wounds and making every nerve scream anew. He collapsed against the cold floor of the carriage, vision blurring.
The woman lingered outside a moment longer, her smirk deepening as she looked upon him one last time. Then she stepped inside after him, her presence heavy, unsettling.
Very pathetic indeed, she thought.
---
