Drexel kept his head down. He had been the first there. It was most likely because the barracks were close to the castle. He heard the Queen scream in anger. Her two guards marched past him and held one of the servants who had escorted him in place. The Queen herself walked past him, but he refused to look up. She had not addressed him, so he did not get up from his kneeling position.

At this time, Drexel had heard others enter the room. They were most likely the other "finest soldiers" she had summoned. He recognized none of their voices, but it seemed that two of them could not contain their compliments to the Queen. Even when she was clearly angered. It wouldn't matter anyway, they could barely be heard over the sound of the servant's screams. 

When the Servants were taken away, the Queen finally addressed Drexel and the other soldiers she had summoned. Drexel stood to face her, and recognized who the others were. The man with the pale face and the beaked mask was easily recognised as the butcher. Drexel had heard that he had committed 30 murders, but was given a powerful position because the victims were plotting against the Queen. The other one was a high-ranking knight. The Red Blade. She is easily known as one of the Queen's most loyal knights, following her orders without hesitation nor sign of regret.

Drexel was in the presence of the elite. How honored he should have been. Honor is not what he felt. He cared not about their achievements, for they mean nothing if they're struck down. Everyone in the room were mortals. Everyone in the room can die. It just so happened that a certain mortal in the room was one that each of them would refuse to be killed or let die. 

The Queen had apologized about her earlier outburst and explained what she was planning to do about tge servants' trials. Drexel's eye twitched after she mentioned the trial by gods. 

[I]Why bother with that? They wouldn't care in the slightest.[/I] thought Drexel.

He put the thought away, for the queen revealed the reason she summoned them. A shield, a blade, and a rusty blade were shown. Each of them were to choose one, starting with Drexel. He stepped up and took a look at the blades. One blade was certainly sharp enough for lacerations, which would fit his way of fighting, but he could do the same with the blades at the end of his chain, and the katar blade on his arm. The other blade was rusty, and looked as if it would break easily. It is the kind of weapon that he would have used without hesitation back when he was a child, but not now. He picked up one of the shields, and returned to where he stood before.