Caught

"Secure the bindings," Morgana ordered one of the soldiers and immediately Arthur was suspended, his arms spread wide and tightly bound. The ropes dug into his skin as the soldiers ensured they were secure.

His gaze shifted to a large basin of boiling water in the corner of the small underground basement. Steam rose aggressively from it, showing its scorching temperature.

Whips, both made of horsehide and leather, as well as spiked ones, were scattered about. There was a crown made of thorns, a branding iron, and many other tools Arthur had never seen before.

Arthur swallowed nervously. Fear of the impending pain settling deep in his gut, though he refused to show it. A branding iron?

His eyes followed the movements of a maid, who appeared to be preparing a fire pit. Did lady Morgana intend to brand him? Force him to wear that crown with its piercing thorns digging into his skull?

"So, you must be enjoying these little niceties, aren't you?" Morgana taunt trying to goad him. With a