Drawn Swords

"Bring forth the criminal!"

The executioner's voice rings across the square.

A beautiful woman is escorted gently toward the execution platform. None of the guards dare lay a hand upon her. She walks willingly, her head held high, her face devoid of fear.

The crowd watches in silence.

"Before you all stands the King's concubine, Lady Freya, of the House of Ghilru, servant of Lotus."

Freya ascends the platform.

She wears a black dress of her own choosing, its dark fabric flowing behind her like mourning made visible. She gathers its hem in her hands as she steps onto the wooden platform, her expression remaining composed.

She scans the crowd.

Then her eyes settle upon the King.

Xillian sits upon his elevated seat, entirely at ease. He takes a slow bite from a red fruit in his hand. The fading light of the evening catches the gold and silver rings adorning his fingers.

Freya's gaze hardens.

There is no fear in it.

Only contempt.

The two guards beside her gently urge her toward the executioner's block.

"She has been convicted of infidelity against His Royal Majesty and insubordination against the throne. By decree of the King, she is to be executed at once by beheading!"

The proclamation echoes across Kortez.

A death sentence pronounced before her lover, Kazamogan Yarmine.

In the historical world of Almult Wielders and Warheads, where power is drawn like a sword and every alliance comes at a price, the greatest battles are not always fought with steel.

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‼️⚠️ Warning⚠️‼️
This story contains graphic depictions of violence, bloodshed, injury, and death. Some scenes may be disturbing or unsettling. Reader discretion is advised.