She watched as he was brought before her, body chained and head bowed. She felt numb, like ice swam through her veins and chilled her from the inside. She looked to her father, watched as his lips moved, the crown on his head gleaming. She could feel the stares from the court, focused on her, on her disgrace. She looked back to him, and met his eyes.
They seemed to speak, the two of them, across the hall and beyond the physical realm. Sorrow and acceptance, love and horror. But no regret. She watched as the executioner’s blade swung high, watched as it swung down, watched as it severed his head from his neck. She felt anguish claw its way up her throat, but swallowed it down.
She observed the blood spilling across the cold stone. She wondered if her blood would stain her pillows, if the color would be as vibrant, when she joined him later that night. They had vowed, in the dark, that their love was eternal, and she would see to it that it was.
© The Lightning Tower, 2020