She felt her stomach twist and turn. Her knees buckled. She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was air.
"Oh, what's the matter, petit ange? Cat got your tongue?"
His voice stirred Marie from her trance. "…Raphael…"
The thief chuckled. "Shocked to see me working with the enemy, yes?" he asked.
Marie didn't respond. How could she, when her dear friend turned out to be deceiving her?
Raphael closed his eyes. "Well then… if you're not gonna say anything, then let us get to it, yes?"
From the left, Jean-François threw him a pistol, to which Raphael expertly caught it and pointed it at Duchess Elizabeth. Marie felt her gut tighten.
"Play Moon Princess now, and your mother will be spared. Don't , and put a bullet in her head. Your choice, Marie." He said, staring blankly into her eyes.
Thief (Noun)
A person who steals, especially secretly or without open force; one guilty of theft or larceny.
She watched in horror as the Hanging Gardens of Babylon appeared from the depths of the streets. To think, this large structure was hidden underneath the city she'd lived in her entire life.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his laughter. Looking sharply to the left, Marie saw that Raphael was laughing – almost cackling – at the sight of the Gardens. "Finally… his dream can come true…"
She blinked. What on earth could he mean by that…?
He must have noticed her staring at him however, because he looked over at her. "Marie…" he said, getting back to his feet – he had stumbled when the gardens rose.
He actually hugged her, much to her own surprise. "Merci." He said. "We couldn't have done it without your cooperation, mon cher." He continued, pulled away and looking her endearingly with a satisfied smile on his face.
That look in his eye. That smile. The way he dipped her head to the side ever so slightly.
It made her want to slap him in the face.
So, with nothing left to lose, she did so. Rather aggressively, too. "I hate you." She spat at him, shoving him away.
Raphael, his eyes wide and his hand on his cheek, stared at her in disbelief. He watched as Marie ran to her mother.
The two of them embraced, and he felt his stomach turn. Love. What a pitiful emotion to have. He then, suddenly, felt an overwhelming sense of anger. He picked his gun, pointing it at Duchess Elizabeth's head.