Erivale: The Lost Princess

Chapter 12: Part 2

I stared in the mirror as the silken fabric of my sleeve moved up the pale skin of my arm, effectively hiding the myriad of bruises. My body was covered in the purple, blue, and green splotches in different stages of healing from my lessons with Ulric.

In the few days I had been practicing, he continued to correct me with slaps of the flat of the sword. I had to admit, bitterly, that I was already improving thanks to his teaching. That was why we had begun actually sparring with the wooden practice swords. He went lightly on me, but even so, the smacks and jabs of his victories still left bruises on my skin.

Leda used a few choice Ithican curses when she saw them. She promised me she would try to trip him next time she saw him in the hallway. I had laughed briefly at her joke, but today was a somber day within the palace and within Ithica as a whole.

Today was the day that Nealon, the rebel, would be executed.

I was dressed in finery to befit the royal family for ceremonial attendance. It was still winter, so my dress had thick fur accents, and a white fur hooded cloak was tied around my shoulders.

I thanked Leda for helping dress me before following Soren and Gerard through the palace. The execution was taking place in one of the main squares of Himmelsk. It would be my first time entering the city other than when I first arrived, and I wished it was under better circumstances.

Outside, a collection of horse-drawn carriages and a fleet of guards were waiting for our arrival. Guinevere, Gerard, Soren, and I were in one carriage while Luciana and Heinrich were in another. The other carriages were housing officials from the palace.

One carriage in the back was all black and reinforced with metal bars. It had no windows, and there were a variety of guards standing around it. Without a doubt, Nealon was located inside. I felt my stomach pinch in anxiety, I didn't want to see him die today. I wanted nothing more than to stay locked in my room, pretending it wasn't happening.

With a jolt that made my nerves increase, the carriages began moving, and we were off. The bridge from the palace to the city was long, and I stared nervously over the water below us. The lake was still as death, and it reflected the stormy sky above as if it were a painting.

The water was abruptly cut off by the city foundation.

Almost immediately, shops and homes were springing up along our path, creating a dense downtown of Himmelsk. Buildings were stark white, and I soon noticed a persistent pattern of small red flags nailed to doors.

"Soren, what do the red flags mean?"

"They mean death," he said solemnly. "They raise the flags in the wake of the impending death to show their mourning and their resistance to the decision."

"It's their own death wish if you ask me," Guinevere added. "Speaking out against the king's decision will only lead to their own deaths."

I was struck by silence at the information and continued to stare. There were no Elves or any other races on the streets today, but there were red flags, hundreds of them.

When the carriage rolled to a stop, the door was opened by a guard, and Soren and Gerard exited first. Soren reached back a hand to help Guinevere out and then myself. The town square was dark and grey, it was as if the world itself knew what today was to hold.

A large wooden platform had been constructed in the center of the square from which a noose was hung. I gulped nauseous at sight and immediately averted my eyes.

On the edge of the town square was another wooden structure. This was raised quite a bit higher off of the ground and was a sort of viewing box. I recognized the appearance of three thrones sat inside.