Random Prompts

Shame/Guilt

I accept no responsibility, and I would do it all again.

The small girl's footsteps rang as the only sound through the deathly quiet courtyard, though it was far from empty. Everyone had gathered to witness the death of the ruthless killer of the king. No one had expected someone so small and young. At eight years old, no one expected her.

"Emeline Windsor," the announcer's voice sounded grim and unsure, "you stand accused of assault of three royal officers, murder in cold blood of King Marina Moore of Andacia, and treason against king and country." His scroll snapped closed with a start, and he turned to the young girl with apprehensive conviction.

Few had been told the truth of who had really killed the king, and those who were told were also told to hold silent their opinions on the matter.

No one had wanted to convict. Under orders of the widowed queen, it had happened under cover of darkness, with only enough witnesses to make it legal. When it came time to sentence, the 'cold hearted murderer' had been built up so much by the royal advisors that the whole country immediately called for not just an execution, but a public spectacle. And those in charge were more than willing to provide it.

However, when faced with the truth of a child being hung in front of the whole country, when the whole truth began as a whisper around the fringes of the crowd, people began to reconsider their rabid rage.

Yet she stood, resolute and unrepentant in the face of the tragic and abrupt end of her short life. Her chin stuck out impetuously, and she walked with no need for aid, altogether dissimilar from some hardened criminals faced with the hangman's noose.

With a trembling voice, the announcer spoke again.

"You have been found guilty of these crimes by the royal guard, and are sentenced to hang by the neck until dead."

Crimes, the crowd felt, would have been a strong word. Though they had, prior to knowing the killer's identity, called for the execution of the cold blooded king-killer, they had repented upon discovering that cold-blooded was a misnomer.

It would seem, according to those guards who were there the night of the kings sudden departure, that indelicate actions on part of the godly ruler had brought the reaper to his door. For months, the girl had planned his demise, after long nights being forced by the kings side. In the end, she had chosen poisoned wine, in absence of both the strength to fend him off and accomplices willing to risk their own lives for her own.

Indeed, if there was a crime, it was on part of the departed king, though no one would dare say it out loud. His queen saw to making sure that his legacy was well tended to. Any who spoke against him risked their own necks finding a noose around them.

Back on the execution platform, the executioner wrung his hands in front of him, and the announcer spoke again. "Do you have anything to say for yourself before you face god?"

The girl adjusted her feet, lifted her chin higher, rolled her shoulders back proudly, and spoke gently but at great enough volume to project through the courtyard.

"I regret nothing. I accept no responsibility, and, given the chance, I would do it all again." Her voice never wavered, though nearly everyone within a hundred paces of her could see a singular tear fall down her juvenile face. She hid her fear well, but her disillusioned sadness was plain in her eyes.

Her words caused the king's guard to shift uncomfortably. They would rather have her beg for her life than show such callous unrepentance.

"Very well." The announcer's voice wavered slightly with his next words. "Executioner, if you're ready?" The masked executioner stepped forward towards the girl. He was used to the grim realities of the world, but even hardened as he was he wasn't prepared for the feeling of lifting the girl onto a stool that the noose may reach her neck. The gallows weren't built for children, after all.

They'd had to search out the correct rope length for her small body, to ensure that she would fall sure and true to her death, and not die by strangulation, but a swift and humane break of the neck. It hadn't been asked for by the guard or by the royal advisors, but they couldn't bring themselves to allow her death to be any more unusually cruel than it already was.

The girl stayed quiet and dignified up until the noose fully tightened around her small neck. Her lip began to tremble, and the crowd saw her close her eyes against the onslaught of tears forming in her baby blue eyes. Maybe she had thought someone would ride in to save her, maybe she thought there was no way they would make it this far. But no one was coming, no one dared speak in direct defiance of the queen's wishes.

Moments before the hangman pulled his lever, Emeline took a final look at the queen, high above the silent terror of the crowd, and spoke one final time.

"May the shame of my death forever be your legacy, my queen."

And then, with a final dismissive nod from the queen, the gallows floor opened, and with a snap, it was over.