Under the Roses

82 - Her Well-Merited Punishment

ANDRINA

Andrina looked out into the crowd. The expressions varied greatly—from grim melancholy to fiery anger to pure delight. But Andrina knew every single person in that crowd felt the same way towards her.

They hated her.

They wanted to see her dead. They wanted to watch her swinging there, struggling as she drew in her final breath.

They were leading her out into the kingdom, making her walk all the way to the gallows, bound at the wrists by a thick rope. They'd walked all the way from the palace, and all the way the people had hurled things at her, insulted her, cursed her. There were things in her hair—black and brown and red.

Vyslav had been merciful, as he said. He hadn't spared her the wrath of the people, but he had allowed her the luxury of dressing how she wanted on her final day.

Not that Andrina owned anything luxurious, anyway. She was dressed as usual, in a black dress. It wasn't her best, but what did it matter? There was a splatter of something of an awful yellowish color dripping from the back of it anyway.

Andrina wondered where her spirits were. She wondered if they had found anything about that girl, Snow White. She hoped they were with Nicolai and Cecilia now.

She looked around for Nicolai and Cecilia. She couldn't see them in the crowd, but she was sure they were watching. She wondered if Rapunzel was watching.

The gallows came into view.

They hadn't been used in a long time, according to what Andrina knew. Capital punishment was rare, now, in Eilyste. Reserved only for witches. Andrina couldn't help the wry smile that crossed her face. How special she was.

She was led up onto the scaffold. Andrina could hear the wood creaking. She wondered exactly how old this was. Perhaps the wood would crack from her weight. Perhaps she wouldn't die today.

Andrina wasn't afraid. She didn't feel afraid. She didn't look afraid. Glancing out into the crowd again, she could tell that only made the people hate her more.

A rotten apple hit the side of her face, and Andrina flinched, though she felt nothing.

One of the guards was leaning towards her, speaking softly to her. He was asking if she had anything she wanted to say.

She looked out into the crowd. And Andrina heard herself say, "No."

The executioner nodded. He looped the noose around her neck, and she felt herself shivering involuntarily. But she was not afraid.

She just hoped her body stayed intact. She hoped her head wouldn't come off, but it was a rather high drop. From where she stood, it appeared to be somewhere around eight feet.

Andrina wondered how most people felt when they were sentenced to death. Horror, probably. Perhaps resignation. Maybe even relief. But most likely dread.

She wondered how it was to be dead. To be just...nothing. To not think, to not feel, to not be alive. When one was alive, they were so much, but when they were dead, they were just that. Dead.

Andrina caught a glint of silver. She turned her head sharply. There, in the middle of the crowd. Her expression matched so many of the others around her, but Andrina would recognize her anywhere.

Rapunzel, Andrina's silver hairpin tucked in her braids.

Andrina lowered her head, resigned. Rapunzel, Andrina's daughter. Though Andrina wondered if she'd really been a mother to Rapunzel. If she'd ever been a mother to anyone. Really a mother.

The executioner was adjusting the noose around Andrina's neck. He was hurrying, his fingers moving swiftly, but he was also precise.

Andrina knew the Eilysten custom—speed through the execution, speed through the death. The most humane way, it was considered.

But what did it matter? Why did they have to be humane to her, a witch, something they clearly didn't consider human at all?

Perhaps it was all a sick, cruel joke.

Andrina hoped Rapunzel would find a mother, a mother who loved her properly.

She closed her eyes.

And then they dropped her.