Queen of Fire (A Light-Bringer Prequel)

Three

Dressed in a red and gold tunic, dark red pants, black knee-high boots, and a white and gold cloak, Marilyn stood beside her father. Ashlynn and King Damon were dressed similarly—Ashlynn's hands were behind her back, and Damon's on the hilt of his sword, Azar—however, Queen Calista was dressed in a scarlet gown, a white and gold cloak, and her blonde hair was piled on top of her head.

The prison wagon rolled up to the gallows, the windows covered with iron bars. Four guards approached the wagon.

As they dragged the shackled woman out, Marilyn's heart began to pound in her chest, her head beginning to hurt from how tightly plaited her long braid was.

The woman was positioned over the trap door, the noose fitted and tied around her neck. Upon her father's order, the trap door will fall out from under her, and the rope will successfully break her neck. 

"Any last words, witch?" asked King Damon.

"I do, My King," the woman spat. "There's a witch in your castle. You and your queen will die in the near future, Lord of Fire." Her soulless, dark eyes fell on Marilyn, before drifting back to Damon lazily. "Only the true Queen of Fire can stop the witch!"

Murmuring threaded its way throughout the crowd that gathered.

Marilyn's brows furrowed in confusion. A witch in the castle? she thought. A witch that only Ashlynn can stop?

"Drop the trapdoor," Damon ordered, sounding bored.

The trapdoor didn't drop. Instead, a scream of pure terror pierced the air, and Marilyn turned to face where Ashlynn should've been standing. Marilyn looked around and found her sister on the cobblestones, a Royal Guard standing over her with his sword drawn.

Marilyn whipped her head back to face the witch on the gallows. Grabbing her father's sword, Marilyn ran up the steps to the gallows. Gripping Azar's bronze hilt with both hands, Marilyn raised the sword to slice down in an arc—the rubies at the base of the blade and below her hands shining in the sun.

In the corner of her eye, the guard raised his sword to impale Ashlynn's chest.

"No, please, no!" Ashlynn cried out, tears streaming down her face as she raised a hand as if to stop him.

Everyone stood in the square, straining almost as if they were fighting against something that was holding them back.

The witch looked up at Marilyn. "I'm not doing this," she said, her eyes almost pleading her innocence. "I swear, Princess, I'm not doing this!"

Marilyn swung Azar—steel cutting through rope, bone, and flesh.

Thunk.

"I killed someone," she muttered, her voice wavering. Marilyn's hands began to violently shake, causing Azar to fall from her grasp and clatter onto the wooden boards.

"Ashlynn!" shouted Queen Calista, running towards her daughter.

I killed someone, thought Marilyn. I killed someone, I killed someone, I killed someone, I killed—

"Marilyn!" Miles ran up the steps, grabbed her shoulders, and sup her around to face him and not the grisly scene in front of him.

"I killed someone, I killed someone, I killed someone," she said, her eyes full of terror. Her face was pale as ever, and her whole body vibrated against his, her breathing ragged.

"Marilyn. Marilyn, look at me," said Miles, holding onto her face with his hands.

"I killed—" She paused, looking up at Miles as tears welled up in her eyes. Marilyn collapsed against Miles, sobbing, shaking, and barely able to breathe.

Miles picked Marilyn up in his arms and carried her down to the waiting carriage.