"Don't move! Stay where you are!" One of the soldiers who entered the room yelled an order as he trained his muskets at the individuals involved in the conspiracy. T
Nikolay Zubov, the orchestrator of the clandestine meeting, slowly raised his hands in surrender. The gravity of the situation had hit them like a cannonball. Their grand plan, their ambitions, all now teetered on the edge of disaster.
Complying with the command, the others lifted their hands, eyes darting nervously between each other. In the midst of their uncertainty, one couldn't help but wonder who had betrayed their cause.
"What's the meaning of this?!" Charles, who didn't lift his hand, demanded with a furious tone.
"Charles Whitworth, Ambassador to the Russian Empire of the United Kingdom," the soldier's voice was brusque, "you are to raise your hands up. We are arresting all of you for conspiracy."