desire reconciliation

Chapter 68

Heart pounding in chest.

It was like the flood that broke the embankment engulfing the boulders and galloping in the river, and it was like the roar of the meteorite breaking through the atmosphere and tearing the air.

The uneasiness and fear silent in his heart were concretized after seeing the man kneeling on the knees in the projection.

The sound of military boots stepping on the floor was heavy, and the black marshal's cloak on his body still had the smell of that man.

The figure stopped in front of that door, and after opening the door, he could see the person he wanted to see day and night.

Lancelot's hand was hanging in mid-air and did not come down for a long time. At this time, another emotion appeared in his heart.

He was afraid.

The man behind this door is not only the person he wants to meet, but also the person who already knows his status as the prince of the empire.

He suddenly didn't know how to face Uriah.

What would Uriah think of him?

Is he worried about his loyal subordinates?Or was it the prince who tricked him into the position of marshal?

Maybe after that, the man who sheltered him from the wind and rain and never said that he liked him without any return disappeared.

Disgusted, hated, he could no longer see those calm black eyes staring at him quietly.

Lancelot wanted to push the door open, so he poured out all the thoughts in his heart, saying that he was a liar or scheming, even if Uriah was no longer willing to believe him, he still wanted to explain , to justify, to hug the bruised man and let him feel his own warmth.

But Lancelot can't do that.

The old emperor's eyeliner monitoring is always there. If he only wants to relax himself at this time, the price he pays will be borne by Uriah. double the price.

Finally, the door was opened by him.

At the same time as the door was opened, the voice in the cell became clearer.

That was the sound of the whip being pulled into the flesh, hitting the man's body one sound at a time.

The interval between each whip was only a few seconds, and then there was the sound of the whip breaking through the air, and then the sound of being buried in the flesh and blood.

a bit......

Again...

There was a momentary blur in Lancelot's eyes, which was the stress response of brain congestion.

The people who wielded the whip were veterans of the Inquisition. They knew where to hit the trainees to tell the truth the fastest. The skin there was the most painful and the most difficult to heal.

The interrogator does not have other options, the general interrogation

It is only necessary to exert some control over their mental power, and they can easily confess the truth.

But Uriah is too special, his mental power is so high that it even exploded several mind control devices of the Inquisition Court.

So this criminal law has changed back to the most primitive form of abuse, torture and torture.

Lancelot pushed the door open and walked in. Every step he took was a step closer to the man, and the shocking scene gradually came into his eyes.

The man in the pool of blood had his hands shackled behind his back, his knees were slightly apart and he knelt on the ground, his head was casually hanging on his chest, and the broken hair on his forehead had already been soaked in sweat.

He didn't seem to notice that someone pushed the door and came in, his head was still lowered, wondering if he fainted because of the pain.

His body was covered with horrific scars, and blood was oozing from every spot. The bright red blood wet the tattered clothes, and dripped onto the cold floor along with the outline of his body.

That piece of clothing was still the one I wore on that planet, and I haven't changed it all the way back.

There were piles of blood stains on the floor, some of which had already dried up to dark red, while others were still bright red, as enchanting as a newly bloomed rose.

There are a lot of pheromones in the blood, and the 24-hour air circulation device in the entire interrogation room still hasn't reduced the concentration of pheromones in the interrogation room.

Seeing Lancelot approaching, the interrogator bowed sideways to him.

Lancelot felt that this scene was ridiculous and sad. The former hero was tortured and abused, and he was admired as a liar.

What they called was not "Master Marshal", but "His Royal Highness the Prince".

A few "His Royal Highness" seemed to wake up the man in the pool of blood, his head slowly raised, and his eyes gradually focused on Lancelot.

The interrogation room fell into silence again, except for the sound of blood dripping from the whip and falling to the ground, there was nothing else.

The man kneeling on the ground looked up at the blond prince. There was no emotion on the latter's face, as if he was looking at a slaughtered lamb, without sympathy or sadness.

There was a smile on the man's face, as if he was completely unaware of the pain from the multiple wounds on his body, a faint smile hung on his lips, soundlessly.

After only a few days of seeing each other, their identities have undergone earth-shaking changes. One fell to the altar, and the other regained his status as the crown prince.

Uriah's jet-black pupils meet the light blue fundus, the long-term copying

Dasha didn't cast a shadow over the blackness. They looked at each other, as if the starry sky was facing the sea, and every place was deep and secluded.

At that glance, time and space seemed to stop for them, the stars no longer rotated, and the sun no longer rose.

Perhaps only they themselves know what the other is thinking.

The interrogators around thought that Lancelot was here to inspect the work and made a report for him.

"Kane Uria, serial number: 6379S-32A1, 26 years old, male Alpha, mental power double S, arrested for committing treason and violating the common interests of mankind."

Shut up....

"Three times of mental power control failed to produce a valid confession, so an alternative plan was adopted..."

Say no more...

There was a voice in Lancelot's heart, he wanted to be close, to touch...

He stepped forward, stepping on the black military boots in the pool of blood and even splashing blood.

Looking down at the man kneeling on the ground condescendingly, that was Marshal Uriah, the imperial god of war who was once radiant and admired by thousands of people.

I don't know how much the two listened to, they just stared at each other for a long time.

"What do you think if you know that I am the prince of the empire?" Lancelot's tone was very flat, and he couldn't hear the emotion.

The man being questioned just looked at him like that, without saying a word, the smile on the corner of his mouth remained the same.

The interrogator at the side whipped Uriah again: "His Royal Highness is asking you something!"

The whip almost slammed on Uriah's body next to Lancelot's ear.

The sound of flesh and blood being torn apart was close at hand.

Lancelot frowned, this was the only change in his facial expression since he entered the room today.

The man's smile didn't decrease at all, and the whip in the interrogator's hand was about to be raised again.

"Stop!" Lancelot blurted out in a broken voice.

The interrogator took a step back and began to explain: "We started interrogating him three days ago. He has always looked like this. He would still look up when you came. Before that, he didn't say a word, and he didn't even respond. "

Lancelot frowned deeper, since three days ago...

It has been three days of interrogation, that is to say, Uriah has been kneeling here for three days, kneeling on this cold floor, being beaten with a whip.

He couldn't imagine how painful it was, and the Inquisition knew it

The Alpha race has a strong recovery ability, and several groups of people take turns beating each other every day.

The wounds on his body were pulled apart before healed, and the wounds were stacked one on top of the other, except for the face, there was no intact skin on the whole body.

Lancelot took off the white gloves on his hands, reached out and raised the man's chin.

The man was very cooperative, and he raised his head accordingly. The smile at the corner of his mouth was imprinted in Lancelot's eyes, and every blood vessel in his heart seemed to be affected and convulsed silently.

Lancelot tried to catch a hint of his own emotion in those eyes.

He wanted to find hatred and anger from that smile, maybe it would soothe his deep sense of guilt.

But the more he was like this, the more he couldn't figure it out. He couldn't see the slightest hatred in those eyes. There was no disgust, hatred, anger, or confusion at all, and he couldn't even find a trace of negative emotions.

"Don't you hate me?"

Lancelot asked the second sentence of the day.

There was another long silence in the interrogation room.

The man kneeling on the ground still didn't say a word this time.

When Lancelot was about to take back his hand, the man's head was slightly tilted at an angle, his temple hair brushed Lancelot's palm, and at an angle that only they could see, he dropped a kiss on his palm.

If Lancelot had worn the ring inlaid with aquamarine gemstones that he gave today, then this kiss would have been impartial and landed on the root of the ring finger of his left hand.

At that moment, a string in Lancelot's brain seemed to snap.

......

"I don't see that you still believe in the ancient earth era."

"So what does it mean to wear a ring on your left ring finger?"

......

"It represents the eternal loyalty of the person who gave the ring."

......

That string is not empty, but a string of a snow mountain, a string of a dam, and when it is broken, an avalanche will be released under the high mountain, and after the levee is broken, the flood will rush for thousands of miles.

And also all the affection Lancelot had for him...

Admiration, admiration, longing...

Thousands of thoughts blend at one point, and then they get out of hand.

Lancelot's fear, anxiety and anxiety all disappeared in this kiss.

That shallow kiss was not mixed with any sex, but it carried a heavier weight.

Not a word of questioning, not a word of excuse.

He escaped the monitoring of the royal family, escaped the eyes of the interrogator, and conveyed all his thoughts, thoughts, desires, and requests to Lancelot.

This kiss is worth a thousand words, and there is no need to say anything about him.

The thoughts are already in his heart.