Banished.
The one word that no one wants to hear. And for a reason, at that. It's pure fire. The heat of the word burns and smolders you from the inside out while the chemicals just mentally intoxicate you to the point of unconsciousness .
People are only banished for the most heinous of crimes. But sometimes not. A man I once was acquaintanced with was banished for stealing a loaf of bread for his starving family in Spain. Another was done for talking back to a Redcoat officer. Petty crimes but still crime.
The difference between me and those men is one small thing: I did not commit these crimes. But yet, I'm here in the presence of my king, in shackles on my hands and feet, kneeling on the ground, waiting for my sentence.
And as he says those words to me, my heart slowly but surely tearing into little pieces, his gaze stays hard as stone.
"Corinne D'Artagnan, I hereby banish you from Paris. If you ever try to challenge my executive order, I will have no choice but to sentence you to a warranted death."
(A/N: Sooo... This drabble kind of came to me late at night out of nowhere, so I decided to write it. I'm debating whether or not to make it an actual story, but that's up to you guys. Would you want me to write it? The chapters wouldn't be much longer than this, but it would be updated more than my 3000+ word stories. Tell me what you think!
Weatherbug02)