Abjuration – renunciation upon oath

The hall was empty, except with four guards in the corners and two more beside the queen herself, and two men kneeled before the most important woman of England. She had a haughty lookon her face, staring down at the two hooded figures below her. There were two same silver badges on their backs, twinkling lightly against the sunlight that streamed from the glass panels.

“You two,” she began, voice dripped with authorities. “Are in the Creed, also? Hiding between the slums of my country to protect yourselves. From what, actually?” The older one looked up a little, his blue-ish eyes peeked through and glowed slightly. “Your Majesty,” his voice was deep with a little accent on it, French probably. “We are from the Creed, yes. We did hide between the slums of your country, yes. And we did that to protect ourselves, yes. From what, Your Majesty? Of course it was from The Templar.”

The other, still with bowed head, continued, “We killed one of the leaders, Your Highness.” He raised his head by an inch, his pair of hazel eyes peeked behind, “They chased us here.” The queen raised her thin brow at the hooded pair, “So, you two are fugitives, are you not?” The younger one looked up in a second, his face contorted in betrayal and his lips curled in anger, while the most impor