Chapter 4

As I was led out of the death-row dungeon, the first light of dawn was just beginning to break on the horizon.

A crowd of commoners packed the area outside the execution grounds. Some hurled rotten vegetable leaves at the prisoner cart. Others cursed Mabel, accusing her of relying on the backing of the Vice Minister of the Court of Judicial Review to escape the consequences of killing the young Prince.

A stinky, rotten egg struck me on the temple. The yolk and white trickled down my cheek, mixed with my blood, but I made no move to wipe it away.

They were right to curse at me. Mabel had intended to escape punishment. It was just that I—not her—ended up bearing the insults and facing execution.

At the entrance to the execution grounds, an imperial envoy verified the documents signed by Arthur. My identification papers, fingerprints, and prisoner identification tag were laid out on a table.

He asked me, "Do you have any objections, Mabel Sinclair?"

I opened my mouth, but only a hoarse, wheezing sound escaped. A jailer pressed my head down and said, "Sir, she'd been making such a racket in the dungeon that she damaged her voice."

I shook my head frantically. I used my fingers, raw and chafed from iron chains, to scratch my last name, "Montgomery", into the ground.

But before I could even finish spelling it out, the Princess Consort of Prince Ezra stepped onto the viewing platform.

She was dressed in black mourning clothes, clutching her son's amulet close to her chest. When her gaze fell on me, there was no warmth in her eyes.

"When Mabel struck and killed my son, did she ever give him a chance to explain?" she asked in a cold voice. "Proceed with the execution immediately."

The command was given out, and the jailers dragged me onto the execution platform.

I cast a final glance toward the pavilion next to where the execution was being overseen. It was draped in festive colors and wedding flowers, and I could even hear faint music as the wind carried it to my ears.

In the end, Arthur didn't come to save me. He had promised to come for me as soon as the wedding ceremony was over. But then again, he had said the same thing every single time before.

"Wait until Mabel is done crying."

"Wait until Mabel recovers from her illness."

"Wait until Mabel is no longer afraid."

"Just wait a little longer, Victoria," he would always say.

I had waited for seven years. But what awaited me in the end, however, was a guillotine.

Seeing my wrists slick with blood, the old jailer quietly loosened my chains by half an inch. He then asked me, "Is there anything else you wish to leave for your family?"

I reached toward my hair.

Mabel had already taken most of my accessories from me. All I had that remained was a single silver hairpin from Mother.

I handed the hairpin and the shattered jade locket to the old jailer. Then, dipping my fingers into the blood pooling in my palm, I scrawled a few lines on the hem of my robe.

"Marriage voided. Send hairpin home. Not bury with Pembertons."

The old jailer's eyes reddened as he read the words.

"Is Lord Pemberton your husband?"

I shook my head.

From the moment he pressed his official seal onto that document, he was no longer my husband.

The executioner gave the blade one last sharpening, and I was soon removed from my shackles before being locked into place at the bottom of the guillotine.

I bowed my head, letting the weight of my body lean against the cold wooden block.

…

At that very moment, the wedding ceremony reached its final stage in the courtyard next door. At the end of the ceremony, Mabel's eyes turned red as she asked Arthur, "Do you think that Victoria is still angry with me?"

Arthur wiped a speck of dust away from her cheek.

"Don't worry. Victoria is just struggling to come to terms with things for now. Just try to be a bit more patient with her when I bring her back later, okay?"

Mabel leaned into his embrace. "Will you ever regret marrying me today?"

Arthur was silent for a long moment.

"No, I won't."

The final beat of the execution drum echoed across the grounds.

The guillotine blade flashed in the morning light.

I closed my eyes.

This time, I wouldn't have to wait for Arthur any longer.

…

Third-Person POV

Just as Arthur set down his glass of red wine, an official from the Court of Judicial Review stumbled into the wedding hall. He had been running so frantically that he nearly collided with the altar before dropping to his knees.

Arthur frowned. "Why are you so panicked?"

The official, his face drained of all color, held out the execution order—stamped with the official seal—in his trembling hands.

"Lord Pemberton! The imperial envoy has carried out the execution, following the identity you verified!"

Arthur's hand froze against the wine glass.

"Didn't I tell you to stall them until I arrived?"

The subordinate looked up, his voice trembling uncontrollably.

"But the imperial decree forbade any delay, Lord Pemberton! Lady Montgomery was executed at dawn. Her body remains at the execution ground, awaiting collection by her family."

The wine glass slipped from Arthur's grasp. Crystal shards scattered across the floor.

"Who did you say has been executed?"