She couldn’t bear the eyes on her; to be lying on the ground like a weak woman. Her father wouldn’t stand for it.

Gwenda cursed herself and screamed in her own mind with such force, but so silently. She couldn’t contain herself while still being held by the hair, still being forced to kneel. Even though the Labeler had moved the hot metal rod away, they pinned her to the ground, waiting for something.

Footsteps sounded behind the masked man and he just stepped aside, making room for the other one who smiled at Gwenda, excited.

Tears of anger filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

She closed her eyes, not wanting to look. Gwenda trembled on the ground. Her past still hurt and for all the useless fighting. She should have stayed outside the wall, that was her heart’s only wish that moment. And now the blood that flowed just below her collarbone was one more infinity of things, eternally.

— Don’t cry, princess. — The king knelt in front of her.

Gwenda opened her eyes again. The sovereign still smiled, pretending understanding.

She grunted in response.

— I’m not your princess, you idiot. — Her voice came out hoarse.

The king did nothing. Didn’t laugh, didn’t retort. He looked at the guard behind Gwenda, who then released her.

Unable to hold her weight, Gwenda fell forward onto her knees, which burned on the sandy ground, her sweaty hands till trapped in the shackles.

It’s raining, Gwen.

She shuddered.

— Have you ever thought about what would happen if the people found out that the Shooter is trembling now? Defenseless? — The king spoke.

Was that his plan? Gwenda wanted to ask. But she knew it wasn’t.

The gate in her mind was still closed. Thanks to whatever she believed was real. Because by now, nothing else seemed true.

— I came to bring something. — The king extended his hand to the side and a guard handed him a parchment — I need you to sign. — He pointed to a line below some text — Right here.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Gwenda swallowed hard and completely ignored him while focusing on her ow heartbeat.

— And I want to offer you a place in my castle.

She felt the color drain from her face.

Gwenda was about to reply when a familiar voice caught her attention.

— What are doing to her?!

It was Kimer.

Gwenda clenched her jaw and widened her eyes.

— Kimer — Now it was Louise’s turn. — Majesty, if you allow me, I’ll take care of the Shooter.

Louise was nearby and stopped right next to the king, who just stared at Gwenda.

The sovereign stoop up with a sigh.

— Make she sign.

The king handed the paper to Louise.

Gwenda’s mind was in chaos, she had never seen anyone react like that, in front of almost half the city. She was humiliating herself.

— Yes, Majesty.

Then he left with his guards and his friend didn’t wait long before bending down to help her up. Gwenda tried to look into her eyes, but the mark on her neck was all she could see. And now she had one just like it.

Her friend glanced sadly at her, and Gwenda just staggered away.

— Gwenda. — Louise murmured softly.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. They were wandering around the gate. Waiting;

Her father. Her father was with her, as he always said. He was there with her, watching; What did he think of all this? Gwenda couldn’t shake the feeling that she had failed. Her father took everything she was when he left. Took everything she imagined to be.

And now her chances were gone.

A hand gently landed on her shoulder, and she stiffened at the touch.

Gwenda gathered courage and looked up, only Louise was in front of her, standing a meter away; The Labeler was right behind her, the metal rod still between his fingers with white knuckles.

But the hand was there, in her shoulder. Gentle and inviting.

A hope burned in Gwenda’s chest. It could be anything. It could be the pain olf the mark. But for Gwenda, it was a hope that helped her keep that gate closed. The evils of her mind wouldn’t be set free, not here, not now. She couldn’t destroy herself here in front of everyone, she couldn’t panic.

What was she taught to be... what did she learn... for what? To get here where she is now and lament wasn’t an option. Even though Gwenda saw it as one. In the past, she endured this horror that tore her chest apart. Endured it for so long that she still didn’t know how she didn’t surrender to the gallows that one day was destined, where always, in the end, seemed to be her fate.

Hope still shone, it was still there. The truth is, she never abandoned it. That healing she had in her body when Kimer and Louise laughed or when she discovered a case at work, she never abandoned it. And Gwenda still fought.

So she straightened up and turned around.