The execution

When a blindfolded woman walked to the middle plaza, the men grabbed her arms tightly and jeers broke out at her dishevelled sight. Lips with a nay a sip of water for days , stretched taut, in harmony with the anxious anticipation hanging in the air.

Bloodshot eyes followed her every step.

They surrounded her without a word.

Watching her so she wouldn't escape.

It was so gratifying that she wasn't dragged like an animal but hoisted instead.

The people in the back, men and women, young and old, stared at her with undisguised contempt. Curses spilled from their mouths, each word sharper than the last.

Around her or those closer than others leaned forward, eyes glinting with something darker than contempt. At last, someone started showering her with cows' dung , starting something.

Rotten fruit and stones flew from unseen hands, thudding against her body causing her each step to bruise her feet further, leaving them swollen and blue, the skin scraped raw and bloody, barely recognizable as human. Behind her a trail of blood. It was ghastly sight but not for the crowd.

Especially for the woman, no better than 12 years of age.

The crowd slowed for a moment, then paused entirely. She was lifted onto a platform, her thin, faded dress whipping in the wind. A gust of air lifted the hem like a ghost. Fluttering it high, for people to see underneath. Even as some eyes audaciously leered, she remained silent, unmoving, as the world waited for her to crumble.

Unfortunately for them, her spirit refused to crack.

Her clothes may have hung loosely and her hair may have been clumped with filth, but they could not conceal her porcelain skin and her hair the symbol of a noble family.

Her ethereal visage respected and revered, now an image ridiculed by the masses.

Such is life.

"Silence!"

The compelling voice parted the sea of noise to stillnessIt's authority impeding the outrage from escalating farther.

Their tongues curled and lips zipped, their gaze fixed on a dashing young man dressed in splendid garments and showered with gold. Each footfall is thunderous and pounding.

A rythmic clackin was heard. One you'd hear from a young man who've trained for years. His back is straight, and his posture is correct.

"May the sun eternally shine upon our Empire,

May the stars lead us with wisdom,

and the Holy Empire blaze in glory forevermore."

The commoners slipped to their knees to greet their crown prince. The nobles simply bowed in greeting, as did the knights.

Except.

Except for two.

The executioners attempted to assist them, but it just led to further mayhem. Without a sound, the woman tried to get rid of the men who were still holding her. Men who had the audacity to touch her, she thought.

She refused to concede without struggle.

At this point, The prince stood next to the convicted felon, their faces barely inches apart. Maybe the girl felt it, because she instantly calmed down. A sneer upon her delicate lips, still looking soft but if you look close enough. It was already cracked and dry.

The men eventually pinned her in place. However, her head raised high and her stern gaze masked behind the blindfolds indicate otherwise. She turned abruptly to face, the breathing she was feeling and spat. Spitefully and accurately, at the same hatred-filled gaze. The majority were in uproar.

The lords were unamused, their frowns reaching the floor. Still, the man did not react, wiping it calmly and left, ordering the execution to proceed. Leaving the disgruntled citizens.

Courtiers and even a specific courtier disappointed. He looked at the dead girl and snickered silently, his hooded eyes glancing discreetly at a man that seemed to age 10 years over night. He eyes flashed in triumph.

Two men will never forget this day.

The aged man sighed before looking straight at the girl being positioned under the guillotine.

The entire event concluded in pure still, with no words or speeches spoken. Even now, commoners would discreetly remark on how absurd the execution was. To express their dissatisfaction, some even grumbled her name.

However, till the final moment, the announcer lifted his palm up to signify silence. No one dared to challenge him, particularly the person behind him. The sun rose, and time came upon us. The moment her blindfolds were removed. Everyone swallowed their tongues in silence.

Some women have even spat.

"So what if she's so beautiful, she's going to die anyway?"

"I have heard, she couldn't keep a man."

Some snarked. "I heard she had an affair."

"Shhh, she's looking this way." The guilty squeaked.

Despite this, no one could take their gaze away from her. The irony.

Unconcerned by the fascinated crowd, the woman simply glanced at a specific location and mumbled, "..."

Before the ax was lifted and with a thud came down with swish.

She remained so pristine that her blood trickled like tears from her body.

The sun bathed her in light, making her feel warm even in death. Nothing more, nothing messy, nothing less.

Everyone dispersed, along with her name, which vanished with the wind, never to be spoken again.