Isabel Past

Prologue

In the kingdom of Aldoria, treason was considered the gravest offense. The kingdom's stability relied heavily on the loyalty of its subjects. Duchess Isabel, despite her protestations of innocence, the weight of the evidence was overwhelming. The court, comprising trusted advisers and respected judges, unanimously declared her guilty of high treason.  Doubt cast a shadow over her once-respected reputation.

A public execution was deemed necessary to warn others who might entertain similar thoughts of betrayal. The day of the execution arrived, and a hushed crowd gathered in the town square. The atmosphere was heavy with anticipation and sorrow.

Isabel, dressed in a simple white gown, was led to the execution platform. Her head held high, she displayed a mixture of defiance and resignation. The executioner stood ready, his gaze devoid of emotion. A priest offered her solace and forgiveness in her final moments. The crowd cried out for her to be spared, began to chant their prayers, and offered her their final respect. Isabel, silent and stoic, accepted her fate with grace. She decided to protect her family. Yet, the emotion of being executed was nothing compared to the pain of watching the person she once loved the most, King Nicolas.

Standing at the gallows' foot, she looked up to the heavens and offered a silent prayer. For the first time in her life, she was truly alone. 'He isn't here... ' she thought, which brought a soft smile to her lips. Her eyes closed, to have a glimpse of his face. Her husband, who had been a good man, despite her many faults. No news, no letters, no word of his whereabouts. She had no idea if he was alive or dead. 'Please forgive me for being unable to protect you, and loved you as you have wished.. ' she whispered. The crowd had quieted, as the priest had finished his prayers and Isabel kneeled and placed her head upon the executioner's block.

However, the silence was broken by the sound of a bell, announcing the arrival of the man who she had been waiting for her husband but was blocked by the empire knights.

King Nicolas was now seen from a distance, as she made eye contact with him. She looked at him, in sorrow and pain. Isabel knew that he would not accept her, but she still hoped that he would be able to forgive her. Her gaze turned to her husband, as he battled to stop the execution but to his protest, it was too late. She closed her eyes for the last time 'You came...' she whispered, followed by a teardrop as the shadow of the guillotine covered the last ray of light.

"Isabel!" 

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Lady Isabel jolted awake, her chest heaving as she gasped for breath. Beads of sweat adorned her forehead, glistening in the soft glow of the candlelight that illuminated her bedchamber. Her eyes, wide with fear, darted around the room, struggling to discern reality from the remnants of her haunting nightmare.

Just as the darkness threatened to consume her, a gentle knock echoed through the chamber, followed by the soft voice of her trusted maid, Sarai. "My Lady, forgive me for disturbing your slumber, but I heard your cries. Are you alright?"

The soothing tone of Sarai's voice provided an anchor for Lady Isabel, grounding her in the realm of wakefulness. Slowly, she turned her gaze toward the maid, her features etched with remnants of the terror that had plagued her dream.

Emily, with her warm, compassionate eyes, approached the bed and took a seat on its edge. Her presence exuded comfort as if she possessed an innate understanding of the turmoil that stirred within Lady Isabel's heart. She extended a caring hand, offering solace in the lingering shadows.

"I had a nightmare, Emily," Lady Isabel whispered, her voice still quivering with remnants of fear. "It felt so real, like a phantom haunting my thoughts."