Adelaide’s eyes peered at the horizon ahead of her. The sun remained hidden behind outline of the western mountain range, silhouetting them against the ever-brightening and delicate colors of dawn as it approached behind them. She had hoped she could see the sun for one last time and now, with the remaining minutes of her life ticking away second by second, she found her heart was pounding not because of any lingering fear but because she was hoping, praying, that it would breach the mountain’s peak before the end.
She had long since blocked out the sound of the crowd surrounding the gallows. The screams and jeering had melted together into an ever-present hum long ago, and so it made it easier for her to ignore them. And whatever they were saying, it wasn’t important anymore. It wasn’t because she had made her peace. Her regrets were abundant. But, there wasn’t enough time left in her life to come to terms with them all.
A sharp, heavy voice broke through the cacophony of voices and the sudden sound of it brought her gaze away from the sky and down to the open stage on the other side of the throng of citizens. A short, sturdy man stood at its center, grasping both ends of a long roll of parchment which he held, stretched out, before him as he yelled over the crowd. She did not know his name, but she recognized him dimly as someone who worked beneath the Imperial High Chancellor.
“All hail the Blade and Scepter, the Sun of the Rathewin Empire, Emperor Julius Basel Rathewin! All hail the the Moon of the Rathewin Empire, Empress Cordelia Arielle Rathewin!”
The jeering gave way to cheers as a figure strode out through the nearby palace doors, his attire fashioned from lush and vibrant white and red fabrics trimmed with gold and a long red cape that fluttered slowly in the wind as he moved confidently and elegantly towards the pair of thrones set out on the stage. His hair, a vibrant shade of gold, glimmered even within the aid of the sun, and atop his head was set a vibrant gold crown decorated with finely cut diamonds and rubies.
Behind him followed a young woman, slender and elegant dressed in a white and red gown that matched his, her own gossamer cape flowing down from her shoulders like rushing water. She held her head high and kept her eyes locked ahead of her, her rich chocolate hair fashioned into an intricately woven braid decorated with small glimmering diamonds that matched the jewels set into her own golden crown.
They seated themselves, their staring ahead to the pair standing on the gallows across from them. Adelaide felt anger and guilt surge in her heart. She had tried so hard to drown those emotions over the past few days, but the pain of betrayal still tore at her heart like a beast.
She had loved him once, for so long that she could not remember a time when she did not love him. She had vowed that she would protect him in whatever small ways that she could, even if those small ways were the wrong way. But in the end, it had been for nothing. He’d used her, warped her love and twisted it with paranoia so pervasive and so bitter that she had done the worst things. Adelaide had been a monster and she deserved to fall, but not like this.
Her fingers clenched behind her back, the ropes of her bindings cutting into her wrists. She took a slow, shuddering breath as the announcements continued. The man’s voice continued to echo loud above the crowd. He declared her to be an enemy of the Empire, guilty of attempted murder of the new Empress and accomplice in the murder of the previous Emperor, Landor Absolon Rathewin. They stood there on the gallows together, strangers joined as conspirators in the eyes of the Empire now—he a villain despite all the good he had done and she a villainess for all the bad.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
Her naïveté and distrust of everyone but the cold and evil-hearted Julius had put her on this road, but she had to admit that her own hands had been the ones to drag her forward. But Dario had done nothing but give the Empire his all and did not deserve the hatred that had buried him here with her.
And Cordelia did not deserve the years of torment she had subjected her to, nor did she deserve the horrific future that lay ahead of her joined with the very man who had almost caused her death and had silently laid his own path to the throne in blood and bone.
Her head turned, her eyes sweeping slowly to the young man standing on the platform beside her, his head held high and his silver eyes staring, unwavering, ahead of himself. He was bruised and disheveled, his cheekbones gaunt and dark hair scraggly and dull from weeks of malnourishment. But even so, he looked the picture of a member of the Imperial family—perhaps even more so to her, because of the truth that would die there with them. There was pride in his eyes that could not be killed, and despite the grin that Julius wore, seated comfortably on his throne, she cold tell he was tense and that it would not fade until his brother was finally dead and buried.
Adelaide looked then to the thrones again and let her gaze settle on Cordelia. Unlike her new husband the expression she wore was much more grim, earning whispers of admiration from the crowd who clearly saw it as a kind-hearted Empress whose heart wept even for the woman who had tried to poison her. And that was true, but for reasons deeper and more horrible than she was sure anyone in the Empire really knew.
They did not know of Emperor Julius’ treachery, of his evil machinations and the web of deceit that he has woven through ever corner of the Imperial court and beyond. Of the years he had spent plotting against his own brother and fabricating lies that would brand him a tormentor and a monster. Of the words of adoration for Adelaide he had whispered in one ear while hissing lies about Cordelia’s plot to steal the Imperial throne in the other. Of the death that surely awaited Cordelia next.
And she hoped beyond hope that that would not happen and that vengeance would find its way to Julius’ throat.
Cordelia’s gaze met hers and Adelaide offered her the briefest of smiles. Her lips moved soundlessly, offering her final words to her and her alone: I’m sorry.
Then, she brought her gaze to the horizon once more and blocked out the sound of the crowd, the thudding of the hangman’s boots, and buried sobs of the Empress. Her mind was clear save for the sound of her voice, uttering wishes and regrets.
I wish I had never met him and never loved him. I wish I had stopped and talk to her.
A thud and a ‘snap’ from the platform beside her broke her out of her thoughts, but only for a second. Her breath hitched in her throat and she clenched her eyes shut, digging her nails into the palms of her hands.
I wish I knew what happiness was. And what real love felt like.
The footfalls of the hangman approached her platform. She gritted her teeth and opened her eyes, staring at the horizon.
I wish I had done everything differently.
Adelaide watched the glimmer of the sun peeking over the mountain’s jagged silhouettes, glinting off of the snow cap and washing the mountain forests with its warm glow. She smiled wistfully and slowly relaxed. She felt the platform give way beneath her. She was falling, but was glad in that moment that she finally had one thing to feel grateful for.
I got to see the sun again after all.