What dramatic irony this scene embodied.[break][break]

Pinned down by rubble, the former Crown Prince of Galar lay beaten and bruised by the indifference of a legend brought back to life. Regirock had departed, but the damage left in its wake remained. The prideful sneer he wore that had deemed her 'witch' and 'harpy' had gone slack, wavering between a conscious and unconscious state.[break][break]

Elisabeth's Dragalge reared its head back, regarding the scene with a coolness reflected in its mistress's gaze.[break][break]

No pity stirred in her heart for the man's plight. Why should it? No one had ever pitied her when it counted. No one had spared her a kind word or pulled her out from her own pit of despair in Kalos.[break][break]

The world had punished Elisabeth freely, even in her state of greatest innocence. She was content to let it do the same to Remiel Calcifet.[break][break]

If he died, all the better. It was something to report to declan walsh to improve her favor with the man and with Rocket. If he lived, however...[break][break]

An eyebrow rose, arching in disbelief as he began to stir. When his eyes met hers, they'd find no compassion mirrored back.[break][break]

"Beg," she ordered, her voice cold with regal demand. "Beg for me to spare your life, princeling. Grovel and give me a single reason to let you return to your miserable existence."[break][break]

Whether or not he complied was no matter. It was a different submission she wanted from him -- the humiliating knowledge that for all his bravado, fate could deal him as fickle and as unkind a hand as she had ever known.[break][break]

The prince of Galar could be brought low, too, no matter how high and lofty he imagined himself.[break][break]

"I am not a patient woman," she added sharply. "Speak now while I yet care to listen."

[attr="class","ooc"] Remiel Calcifet

[attr="class","pkmn"]