A public shaming to assert her power

"Friends!" Lyra boomed over the noise of cheering. "I have more good news!" As more of the mob noticed what was happening they quieted down, and soon Marcus was facing a sea of eager faces, most of them staring at his naked body. Some of the people seemed angry, others amused, but there were more than a few men who were staring at his slender frame with hungry expressions that made him shudder. "Tell them who you are." Lyra hissed in his ear, her fingers digging into his bare shoulders. It was painful enough to bring tears to his eyes, and he knew he'd better obey before she did something even worse.

"I...I'm Marcus Valerian." He sniffled. At the sound of his surname, an angry hiss passed through the crowd.

"That's right!" Lyra snarled. "This boy here is the son of the oppressors. For all his life he has lived in luxury, fed and clothed by the hard work of those less fortunate than himself. With the **** of his Father, he would have come to the throne by no more reason than an accident of birth. Let me ask you, friends, does he look worthy to rule over you?"

"No! He looks like a girl!" Someone near the front shouted, instantly echoed by a whole load more voices. Marcus glanced at the ground, unable to face the mocking stares any longer.

"Of course not!" Lyra continued, her voice shrill and certain. "Look at him! This weak and cowardly boy, made soft and pathetic by years spent suckling from the teat of luxury. And he would have ruled this country soon enough! That, my friends, is what royalty means. Weak kings, taking everything from the common man, with neither the stomach to make the hard choices, nor the generosity to share their wealth! Centuries of this has brought us nothing but misery! It ends tonight!" Again her words worked the crowd into a frenzy. Cheers and shouts and screams echoed through the cold night air, so loud it made Marcus flinch and tremble in his captor's grip. He didn't understand. How could people even think these things? This was a Kingdom! It was supposed to be ruled by his family. And they'd been good to the people too, always! He wished he had the courage to say so, but terror kept his lips snapped shut. "So, now I ask you friends, what should be done with this son of oppression?" Lyra shouted, her voice ringing out over the shouts of the crowd.

"Kill him!" Someone shouted, a brawny man near the front of the mob. His face was twisted into a mask of rage.

"Cut off his head!" Another piercing shriek from a woman off to one side. "**** for my son!" Marcus just knelt there and sobbed as more and more of these horrible people demanded his ****. Lyra let it continue for a moment more before she raised one hand from his shoulder and waved it for silence. The chorus of angry shouts died away and the mob watched her eagerly.

"You are angry, friends." Now she spoke calmly, but her words still trembled with emotion. "I understand that. This boy and his family are responsible for so much suffering. But would it truly be wise to begin this bright, new day with unnecessary bloodshed? He will be punished, of that I can assure you, but would it not be better to show mercy? To show the world we are better than these cruel monarchs who demand only **** and torment?!" There was a chorus of agreement, and suddenly the voices of those asking for **** died away. "Yes, we will show him mercy, and once he has been punished, let him work for the people to pay off his debt!" Again the mob exploded with cheers and shouts, enough of them agreeing with Lyra's words that the few who didn't were silenced.

She was playing the crowd like a musician, Marcus realized even in his dull misery. She'd made them want to kill him, then made them feel ashamed for it, ending up with all of them demanding exactly what she planned and feeling like it was their decision.

He raised his head, turning slightly on his knees so he could see her face. That same trembling emotion burned in her one good eye as she looked over the baying crowd. She was so good at this because she really believed what she said. For her, it was simple truth that him and his family were evil and royalty was bad. He found himself wondering just what could have happened to make her feel this way. He was absolutely terrified of her, but in the flickering torchlight, her face glowing with conviction, there was something so fierce and compelling about her he could hardly look away.

"Of course, this boy is not the only parasite our hard work has kept in luxury." She continued suddenly, and the mob paused, staring at her with anticipation. "Whatever his crimes, they pale in comparison to those committed by those who held true power, those who wore the crowns and brought so much misery upon our suffering nation! The punishment of the former King and Queen will come as well, soon enough!" Marcus froze, his heart in his mouth. No! They'd captured his Mother and Father too! "Now, return to your homes, friends, eat, drink and celebrate with your families. Tomorrow is a new day for this country. And for those of you who wish to see this boy punished for his crimes, come to the town square at dawn. You will see justice done then, that I promise you!"

The crowd started cheering and shouting again. Marcus just stared at the wooden floor of the stage, feeling dull and broken. There was no doubt in his mind that whatever she had planned it would see him suffer more pain and humiliation to satisfy this sick desire for **** she seemed to share with all these awful, dirty people. He didn't understand. He'd never hurt anyone in his life. How could anyone hate him so much for things he hadn't even done?