Heart Over Sword-Chapter 296: Execution

The Queen had fallen, but Evanna did not feel victorious. If anything, more weight crushed her chest, significantly when her eyes fell on the boys. After sealing Eleanor’s fate, the rest of the process went far too quickly. It was a blur, and she was no more than a spectator now.

The days following the trial made the servants busy. Evanna watched in a darkened haze. The weight of her decision was heavy, one she wished wouldn’t affect William and George. Isabel acted differently around her as well. Whenever they saw each other at opposite ends of the hall, Isabel would turn in the opposite direction. It was a little maddening.

Evanna would prefer it if she screamed all sorts of profanities in her face, not this silence. She didn’t think Isabel would scheme anything. The girl was not a schemer like her mother. She merely bullied Evanna, and while she might not have cared if Evanna was assassinated, her interest lay in her reputation and looks.

Now Evanna stood beside Arawn on a temporary dais overlooking the village square. Days before, word spread to the commoners about their Queen and those involved in assassination attempts on Lady Loraven, Princess Evanna and the truth behind former King Selvin’s death. Many were gathered for Eleanor Roth’s execution. Fortunately, William and George remained inside the palace walls. They may have been allowed to stay in the trial, but this day was not for their eyes to see.

Some peasants of similar ages were still gathered, but it was a different story for William and George. It was their mother who would lose her head. Besides, they were not traitors and did not need to see their mother’s death as a warning.

Evanna sighed, shifting slightly on one foot. There was a slight chill in the air now, and her furred cloak wrapped around her snugly. Her long black locks fell down her shoulders, an emerald and diamond band fitting across her brow and wrapping around her head, strands of her hair weaving in and out of it. She kept her head tilted up as many eyes flicked back and forth between the once-missing princess and the ethereal with white hair by her side.

On the other side of Evanna, Osian also remained standing instead of sitting on the throne. Loraven stood to his side, and with some space between them, Isabel watched from the side, her features masked as she looked upon her mother. Evanna heard her father visited Eleanor in the coming days, and though he may have felt conflicted, none of those emotions were expressed on his features now.

To see the former Queen stroll to the guillotine, stripped of her title and her jewels, bare-faced with a haunted look on her face, is something Evanna can never unsee. This woman who caused so much turmoil in her and her mother’s life, killing her father, was now facing death.

"*How are you feeling?*" Arawn whispered. He wasn’t watching the scene before them but her. His only concern was Evanna. He was aware she’d attended a few executions before. This time, it was someone she knew.

Evanna nodded, watching the crowd throw rotten vegetables at their former Queen. The princess didn’t hear Osian’s words again; she was trapped in watching the scene unfold before her. Eleanor faced them, the crowd of commoners behind the raised platform, now quiet to the king’s introduction and statements. frёeweɓηovel_coɱ

"Do you have any last words?" Osian’s voice filtered through the fog surrounding Evanna’s mind.

Eleanor stared back at the king and then looked at her daughter. "I have no regrets."

Such a simple statement that boiled the hearts of those affected. Osian nodded once, feeling that conflicting urge to strangle himself and the small prickle of sadness that tried to wiggle its way into his heart. He’d never loved Eleanor. But she was the mother of his children, and they had been a great pair, mostly.

They already discussed Isabel’s future and their sons. There was nothing left between them. Eleanor killed his brother, a king loved by many, a king and loving husband to this icy princess who stood beside him. This was it. Her death would not bring his brother back, but she would at least pay the price of treason.

Eleanor was put into position, her chin resting, her neck bare and providing easy access for the blade to fall onto.

Osian gestured with his hand, a command to the executioner, for justice to be dealt. The eeriness of the hushed crowd watched as the gleaming metal was released. In one swift movement, Eleanor’s head was detached from her body, falling into the basket below. That eeriness only remained a moment more before the people cheered.

Evanna felt sick from the display but kept herself in check. On the other side of the king, however, Isabel’s mask crumbled, and she fainted. The nearest guard attended to her, and with a swift order from Osian, she was taken back to a carriage.

After the former Queen’s execution, Sir Hugh and Jude followed. Nothing else was brought to light about Sir Hugh’s involvement. He remained quiet, infuriating the king in his trial. Evanna, on the other hand, visited his cell, demanding an answer. There was no hatred towards her or the elven kind; he seemed to hold warmth for Selvin as he spoke about him and when he spoke to her.

"Why did you do it?" Evanna had asked, pleading with him to make her understand.

Sir Hugh looked down at his shoes whilst gripping the bars between them. "It was an order from King Branoc." He didn’t hint at anything else, but he didn’t need to. The former king, Osian’s father, her grandfather, passed away when she was fourteen.

It was clear his thoughts aligned with Eleanor’s and her father’s about the elves. From what she learned from Loraven, Selvin wanted to make changes, and she was a part of that. King Branoc was the one to have posters all over the kingdom forbidding others to have elven crafts and speak Muranthian.

"Anything you wish to say, Hugh?" Osian asked, snapping Evanna back into the present. He dropped Sir Hugh’s title. After learning about his orders, it seemed unfair he would be killed. But Sir Hugh did kill the former king. He was loyal to the crown, yet he had such a close relationship with Osian and Selvin.

Evanna was still left with many questions, and her heart ached, aware Sir Hugh followed those orders anyway.

"I’m sorry," Sir Hugh spoke, his eyes locked on the king’s. Hundreds of messages and scenes seemed to flash between them, years together, not only working together but being close friends. Sir Hugh meant his words; that much was clear. "I do not expect you to forgive me."

"I do not," Osian replied just as calmly. It was like the crowd had faded away from the former friends as they spoke their last words to each other. "And I never will."

Sir Hugh nodded, fully aware this would be the case.

Jude was asked the same question, but she remained quiet, tears streaking down her cheeks. With nothing left to say, the bottom flew open beneath their feet. Jude’s neck instantly broke, and she died within seconds, her head flopping to the side. However, Sir Hugh struggled for breath with the rope constricting his throat. Osian watched his friend with raw emotions, feeling more for the death of his friend than the woman who birthed his children. His eyes grew misty as he watched Hugh’s last struggling moments before the convulsions and movements stopped, and his head drooped, eyes going blank.

Evanna looked away. She couldn’t watch Sir Hugh struggle and hid her face from the world in Arawn’s chest. A man she’d grown up with, one who protected her, shielded her from gossip, scolded her when she’d been naughty, sparred with her when she asked and listened to her woes, died a traitor. Arawn stroked circles along her back in comfort and helped warm the chill that was seeping into her bones.

That evening, Arawn didn’t leave Evanna’s side. She was emotionally drained, and sleep came to her quickly, though her dreams were not sweet and were full of memories mixed with the last moments of Sir Hugh’s death.

This content is taken from fr(e)ewebn(o)vel.𝓬𝓸𝓶