"Arrest them!" Nicholas ordered before either of them could get a word in. "Someone check on Governor Thompson!"

"Wait!" Vincent yelled, holding up his hands to show that he was unarmed, blood still dribbling down his wrist. But none of them listened, stalking towards him, pales faces a mix of anger and fear.

Hands grabbed him, wrapping around his arms and squeezing his shoulders. He struggled, of course he did. Panic coursed through him, screaming at him to go, get out, to save himself and no one else. A growl escaped his throat and he tried to pull himself from the tight grip. The vireen he had used wasn't enough, not when there were three people holding him place.

He wrenched himself out of the grip of one guard and was reaching over to hit another when the click of a gun made him freeze. Nicholas stood before him, the gun pointed at his forehead and a sneer on his face. "One wrong move, boy," he snapped and took a step closer. "I don't care how messy it is."

Spencer was in a similar position, held by three people, but he didn't dare struggle. Enraged, Vincent tried again to escape, but the eager look in Nicholas's eyes was enough to stop any further attempts. He'd shoot them both if he had enough reason to and seeing as he seemed to believe that had attacked Charlotte, Vincent was surprised that he hadn't shot them already.

"We didn't do anything!" Spencer spat, glaring at the angry advisor standing before them. "We heard her scream. There was-"

Nicholas scoffed. "If that was the case, you wouldn't have been in here holding a bloody knife over her body," he said, pointing the gun at Spencer. "Attacking your Governor over a bunch of savages, you and your lover. Disgusting."

Vincent bristled at the words, but didn't struggle again. They were stuck there, about to be punished for a crime they didn't commit. "It wasn't us," he gasped, tugging at his arm again. "It was Mi-"

But he wasn't able to finish his sentence either. Not because Nicholas interrupted him, but because of the familiar face that appeared over his shoulder, staring down at them in fake shock. There was guilt in Mira's eyes and she quickly looked away from them. He gaped at her, confusion running wild within him.

"It was who?" Nicholas asked, a smirk hidden behind the gun pointed at Vincent's forehead. "Because there is no one else in here but you two."

There was no way they would ever be believed. Mira was right there, doing her best to look like the scene was new, like she hadn't been the one to stab the Governor. He couldn't understand why. Either she had her own plan and knew Nicholas would immediately accuse the two of them or she was working with him. It left no room for Vincent to accuse her and that was exactly how she wanted it to be. Why?

"I need a medic," a man behind him said. They'd been too busy focusing on Vincent and Spencer to bother with what was more important, the Governor. Someone rushed from the room, but he couldn't see them with Nicholas in the way, his gun still pointed at them both.

"This wasn't us," Vincent hissed, but he already knew none of them were going to believe him. They'd all seen Spencer standing over the Governor, knife in hand. He and Vincent were the only ones in the room, they had no else to vouch for them except an unconscious Governor.

None of them said a word. Something snapped behind him and the feeling of cool metal against his wrists made him clench his teeth in discomfort. The shackles were tight, but he'd be able to break out of them easily with the vireen. He didn't try it though, not when he was standing in the middle of a room full of people ready to shoot him.

Next to him, Spencer let out a grunt of discomfort when his hands were forced roughly behind his back, the knife in the hands of another guard. The click of the shackles was loud in the silent room and he knew they were trapped for the time being. If they weren't about to be executed, then he'd have to wait until he was more alone to even try breaking out.

And when he did, he wasn't staying in New Feridian. He'd take Spencer and leave, head for somewhere safer. His life had always been dangerous, the threat of the police catching him and executing him always hanging over his head, but it was nothing like what he was facing in the Governor's cramped office.

Someone else rushed into the room and after pausing for a moment to stare at Vincent and Spencer, ducked behind the desk to check on Charlotte. Nicholas, concern in his eyes, kept the gun pointed at the two bushrangers while he waited to hear if the Governor was going to be alright. Even Vincent could see that he was a good actor.

With Nicholas's distraction, he took the chance to glare at Mira, who had been given the task of watching them, her gun in hand. She could only meet his gaze for a moment, long enough to look apologetic, but she didn't say a word. She was letting them be captured, be taken away and most likely be executed. Why?

"She's going to be alright," the doctor said. "The wound isn't a fatal one. I just need a lot of vireen. I believe she also has a head injury."

The relief in the room was palpable, but it wasn't going to be enough to prove that Vincent and Spencer hadn't hurt her. If they didn't get taken away before she woke up, then they might have a chance, but knowing Nicholas, he wanted to control Charlotte, which meant both of them being out of the way.

"Do whatever it takes," Nicholas said and turned to the guards holding Spencer and Vincent. "Take them down to the sheriff's office, keep them locked up until the Governor wakes up and gives us orders. I expect an execution is on the way."

Vincent struggled again as the guards tried to walk him towards the door, growling like a dog. He should have been able to escape, to break out from his bonds, but the vireen was trying to break him free of far too many things. There wasn't enough strength in him to do it, not then, not without holding the chunk in his hands. It was still in his pocket, ready and waiting.

Spencer was far more successful than him, even without vireen. Someone must have slipped, their grip must have loosened, but Spencer was free to hit one of his captors in the face. There was a loud crunch as blood spurted across the guards face, his nose broken. But there were still too many of them to take on.

He was grabbed again in seconds, multiple guns pointed at his sneering face. Vincent shook his head at him. He wanted to fight back, but it was no use if it was just going to get them killed. Hands patted at his sides, grabbing for his knife and his gun and handing them to Nicholas. His pouch was taken from its place on his belt and thrown to one of the other guards. He doubted he would ever see the knife again once it was in the angry advisor's possession, but at least they hadn't found the rock.

Their second attempt at being walked out of the room was stopped by a soft voice from behind the desk. "What's going on?" Charlotte asked before groaning in pain. "What happened?"

Nicholas was by her side in seconds, eyes wide with a fake fear. "You were attacked, ma'am," he said and pressed a hand against her shoulder to stop her from sitting up. "Do you remember anything? Did you see them?"

"No, I- I didn't," she said, frowning deeply at him. She shoved his hand away and sat up, scrunching her eyes up and placing a hand on her forehead. When she opened her eyes again, her gaze locked on Vincent, held with his hands shackled behind his back. "What are you doing to them?"

"Charlotte," Nicholas said in a soothing voice. "They were the ones who attacked you. I came in and found them here, standing over you with a bloody knife. You've been stabbed. We need to get you to your room for treatment immediately."

She shook her head, still staring at Vincent in fear. "No, that's not right... Why would they. Nicholas, you- It's you! You're-"

"You've hit your head quite hard, ma'am, you need treatment," Nicholas said, a hard look in his eyes. He turned to the doctor. "Get a stretcher and take her to her room."

She tried to struggle, to push herself to her feet, but her injuries were too painful. She ended up on the stretcher without much of a fight, a desperate expression on her face. "Stop this, Nicholas! It wasn't them, it can't be!" she cried, tears of pain falling down her cheeks. Two people lifted the stretcher between them and Vincent finally got a proper look at her wound. There was blood everywhere, she was lucky she wasn't dead, but that was the point, wasn't it?

"In the unfortunate circumstance of the Governor's injury, I will be taking charge of the situation until she is well enough again," Nicholas said to the other guards in the room. "Now-"

"Nicholas!" Charlotte yelled from the doorway, betrayal in the lines of her face. "You can't do this! I know what you're trying to do. It's not right!"

But no one listened to her. She disappeared down the hall, yelling at him all the while. That had been his plan all along, hadn't it? To take charge of what was going on in Morgot in a way that wouldn't get him in trouble with the royal family. And it was just Vincent's luck that he had got himself caught up in all of it.

Nicholas sighed and ran a hand through his thinning hair. "She's going to be alright, she's just hit her head," he told the guards, who didn't look like they cared that much. "Get these two out of here before they cause more damage."

He didn't fight back when he was pushed from the room and down the stairs, there wasn't much point. Mira watched them leave, teeth worrying into her bottom lip, but she didn't say a word. Vincent couldn't do a thing. Nicholas was in charge of Morgot and while it wasn't going to be for long, it would be long enough to cause lasting damage. Vincent should have known that it wasn't going to be that easy, but he had never expected Nicholas to go to such lengths.

As they marched past the wilting tulips, he glanced over his shoulder at Spencer. He looked angry more than anything else, but there was fear hidden in there. When he caught Vincent's gaze, that fear morphed into concern and Vincent struggled to reassure him. How could he reassure anyone that they would be alright when they were about to be executed?

Nicholas would want it done quickly, before Charlotte had a chance to recover and stop him. They had an hour, maybe a little longer if they were lucky, to break out of whatever cell they were stuck in and get out of New Feridian. Charlotte was on her own. She knew what she needed to do once she had recovered.

Guards stared at them as they walked down the road that led up to the manor. The sheriff's office stood on the corner, a large wooden building that held an awful sense of foreboding. Vincent swallowed the lump in his throat, his wrists chafing against the metal around them. This was the place he always expected his life to end, but not when he was only nineteen.

It was all happening so fast, too fast. Once he was alone, locked in a cell, he would be able to figure out a plan. All he had to do was ignore the panic that was rising within him, threatening to cause him to make a costly mistake. Spencer was running only on the vireen he'd smoked that morning, it wouldn't be enough to break him out. Vincent had to be careful if he wanted both of them to get out alive.

The woman in the sheriff's office eyed them in confusion when they burst in through the door, but Nicholas wasn't there to explain himself. The guards told her what had happened, but Vincent wasn't paying attention, focusing on memorising his surroundings. A set of stairs next to the woman's desk led down to a basement. Down a long hall behind them were more cells than he could count, a proper prison in the middle of New Feridian.

If Vincent had been caught out in the towns, he would have stayed at a sheriff's office until someone came to transport him to one of the penitentiaries on the outskirts of New Feridian, but that was never going to happen. Nicholas wouldn't wait that long. He'd be dead before the day was out if he didn't fight his way through.

Not paying attention meant he didn't hear the woman's orders. He was pushed down the stairs harshly, grateful that he didn't slip, but Spencer didn't follow him. He was taken down the hall, glancing over his shoulder at Vincent, a strange look in his eyes. If only they could go back to the other night, when things were better and they had been as close to happiness as they could get.

The basement was dark and dingy, lined with cells. A couple of prisoners watched him pass in silence, but he barely spared them a glance. The guards holding his arms shoved him into a cell at the end of the long basement, one of them chuckling when he stumbled over the rough ground.

They walked away once the cell door had slammed shut behind him, leaving Vincent to sit in silence in the dank space. The cot in one corner and the bucket in the other made him cringe in disgust and he took a deep breath. There he was, in the last place he ever wanted to be, in a prison cell.

But he wasn't unarmed. In his pocket was the chunk of vireen and as soon as he got a chance, he was breaking out of the cell. No more New Feridian, no more guarding Governors, no more fighting with advisors or proving who deserves to live and die. He was taking Spencer and they were leaving, heading for somewhere better.