cyanide and happiness bee

“Seraph overstepped and suffered for it. The clergy overstepped and suffered for it. You are all suffering for the choices you made. It’s as simple as that. However, I consider myself a sensible, forgiving man.” Noah released Bojena and stepped back. “I don’t want to kill you, and I don’t want to get into a pissing contest with the church. In fact, I would like to form an alliance, so tell me, what do I have to do to make this all go away? What mountain must I move for the church to get off my back and on my side?”

Should he do it? Just forfeit the match? To admit before the crowd that their prince was too weak to fight back? After everything that had happened to him, he had no pride left, nothing to lose. Maybe it was better to accept his failure and resign himself to his shame. Lying on the ground, he raised his arm, about to surrender, but stopped, thinking back to a conversation he had with Tarnas. It was during the year of training, the two of them sitting around the campfire on an autumn night. Seraph was staring deep into the flames, into the light and warmth, but all he felt inside was cold darkness.

She jolted back to reality when her dad plopped down on the couch by her feet. As usual he turned on the TV just for the quiet background noise and for something to stare at and ate his dinner as fast as he could. When he was finished, he put his bowl down on the coffee table.