Honeymoon

[Backo]

The solitude of the modest prison cell gave Eliza a chance to clear her thoughts and assess the situation. Looking at how things had unfolded made her think that surrendering without a fight a fight was a mistake. At least she would have had a chance, even if minuscule and practically insignificant it still looked better than her situation now. The girl closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. She tried to remember Malta, the planet she yearned to return to enough to consider this mad plan to begin with. The sun's rays on her skin, the vast orange fields, the slight autumn wind blowing in her hair. A tranquil image instilling both calmness and a hint of regret as it was all so close and yet so distant. Her ill fate now seemed certain - judgement awaited. Perhaps she deserved it for what she had done and planned to do if not apprehended by the Gallic patrol?

Eliza puffed in a sign of helplessness. She wondered what was happening with Enma now. Most likely the Gallics were going to be able to identify her. The blonde was sympathetic to them and her status as a Core Guildmistress obviously had to give her leverage, more than anything Eliza could ever manage at least. This irritated the young girl deeply as she didn't like this shift of dynamics at all. She stood up and began walking around the cell in a nervous step. The thought that she should get used to living her life in this small cell gnawed the back of her mind. There was also the question how long would the rest of her life be anyways? A most disturbing thought that she couldn't shake off in any way no matter how much she focused on her little walk. Seeing the futility of this exercise she tumbled down at the corner of the room into a seated position with her hands and chin resting on her knees. This was probably how Enma felt over the last few days, how ironic. The Maltese's eyes drifted across the prison cell. There wasn't even anything notable about it that could distract her. It served the most basic human needs and even made the quarters in Cali look good in comparison. Another depressive exhale came out as a result of said observation.

There were many more gloomy questions fumbling around her head but thankfully soon enough they were cut short for the moment by the cell door opening. Eliza raised her head to gaze upon her visitors. It was that important looking lady she laid eyes upon before being sent to her cell. Her commanding tone clearly supported the Maltese girl's hypothesis of the lady's importance. There wasn't much she could do anyways. The auburn haired girl slowly stood up and extended her hands forward, waiting for the handcuffs. Might as well get on with it, she thought to herself as the guardsmen prepared her for her short trip to the interrogation room. The trip to it was far from fascinating either as her mood warranted little for sight seeing and awe of this great warship's interior. Just as compliantly, as Eliza was now a captive herself, she took her expected seat across the table from her interrogator and awaited with a somewhat empty eyes. The detainee took note of the lady's rank as it was perhaps the most important bit of the opening pitch. The fact Enma denounced her came to little surprise. As if the blonde would simply turn the other cheek and forgive her after all what Eliza did or was about to anyways. It sounded like the natural thing to do, whatever the two had between them was now dead and gone, or so the young girl assumed. She would have done the same if she was in Enma's shoes anyways, no doubt in that.

The Commandant wanted to know Eliza's side of the story? Scratch that, she even almost hinted a possibility for bargain if she got it. This most likely was standard protocol. In Eliza's position there was no reason to not indulge the Gallic lady with it. With that in mind she wrapped her still handcuffed hands around the warm cup of coffee and looked back into the interrogator's eyes.

"Valdez would suffice, madame Commandant."

How pretentious she thought to herself but at the same time couldn't help but feel disturbed by her inner voice every time she was reminded that she was in fact betraying not just anyone but her spouse. Her fingers played around the cup as she tried to piece together her next few sentences.

"Neglect, jealousy and fury, I'd imagine. She pushed me over the edge with the way she treated me. I warned her not to try me yet she figured I was bluffing. It wasn't hard capturing her, we were all alone there anyways. My threat to her was simple - I'd turn us both in to the Maltese authorities. That was what I planned to do before being intercepted anyways. They promised to go easy on me if I surrendered them Enma as well, maybe they would have gone easy on her as well, maybe not. As things were already set in motion I had little time to contemplate that part. I could go into higher detail but doubt someone of your statute cares much for my failed marriage to warrant doing so, madame Commandant."

Her voice was dull and gloomy, much like her broken spirit at this very moment. With her hands still wrapped around the coffee, she raised the cup for a sip, still keeping her eyes on the interrogator. The coffee was good, really good at that. Or maybe it was the fact it was her only comfort today. At this point Eliza couldn't tell which either. She didn't have much mental energy to ponder on it much anyways and instead turned her attention back at madame Montlaville.

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Republic of the Sword and Sun