The Princess and The Pirate

“M’LADY! I SWEAR! I DIDN’T POISON THE KING!” screamed the servant restrained on a large scaffold. A large, hulking man dressed in black held the prisoner in place. “I HAVE SERVED THE ROCQUEBURNE FAMILY FOR YEA—”

“Gag him,” the Queen commanded from behind a black laced veil, presiding over the event personally.

The executioner obliged, putting a thick strand of rope between the man’s teeth roughly. It only muffled his pleas.

Lillian silently sat beside her adoptive mother. Versetti, seated on her right, was completely stone-faced. It was a beautiful day for an execution. The town smelled clean from the recent storm and not a cloud was in the sky. Nearly all of Rocqueburne had shown up for the execution of the now infamous King’s assassin. Like a good mob, they booed and hissed, cheering for the slaughter of this evil man. The large, purple war banners lined the platform’s edges, reminding the crowd why they were here - Justice. They were sending a message to the pirate plague.

“Thomlin Oslo, for high crimes against the crown, for murder of our beloved king, and for consorting with pirates, you and your entire lineage face death. May God have mercy on you and your family’s souls.”

Poor Thomlin only screamed through his gag, the veins in his neck bulging out while his own face turned bright red, exerting an increasing amount of energy for naught. Unfazed, the herald simply rolled up his script and bowed to the Queen and Lillian.

An advisor leaned down beside the widow’s head and spoke lowly. “Your Grace, he is married with three children; surely they cannot be blamed.” His tone was sympathetic. Thomlin himself was looking back at her with pleading, bloodshot eyes, chewing on the scratchy rope in his mouth.

“His seed needs to be purged from the earth to save the rest of the crop. Pity him, and you will be next, councilor,” the Queen said, gripping the arm of her chair so tightly her knuckles blanched.

He quickly ducked out of her warpath.

A holy man graced the platform, swinging his incense and humming loudly. Thomlin was crying now, hyperventilating and sobbing upward to the sky. The priest eventually shuffled in front of him and held his hand out, sliding it up, then down, left then right, forming the cross in the air. Many in the commoners’ crowd did the same.

“May the angels take you home, son, and cleanse you of your sins,” he announced. “May Saint Jacqueline herself usher you into God’s house. Amen.” A low murmur of “Amen” came from the watchful people below. Even the executioner responded. The priest shuffled away once his role was fulfilled, slowly descending the steps of the platform.

The Queen, as still as death, said nothing.

Lillian only rolled her eyes, suppressing a sigh of boredom at the needless pageantry. She was completely uninterested in the innocent man she had condemned.

Sobbing, Thomlin was pushed down to his knees, a chopping block awaiting his head. Heaving in deep breaths, the servant’s shoulders were pressed against the wood. One lone drum began playing a steady beat and a hush fell over the people.

He shut his eyes, hearing the axe lift into the air.

Swiftly, the large blade came down on the servant’s neck, killing the man instantly with a graceful decapitation. A great cheer erupted from the townspeople as Thomlin’s head rolled across the platform’s planks. The crowd violently chanted “Justice! Justice! Justice!”

“I am weary. I don’t wish to look upon these ugly people anymore,” the Queen called out above the noise. It was nothing but static to her ears. Holding her black gloved hand outward, Versetti took it, helping the widow stand. Escorting her from the festivities, the captain of the guard looked back at his princess. Lillian softly smiled at him, nodding gently, encouraging him to go.

“Please be mindful of the stairs, your Majesty,” Versetti chimed out, placing a hand on the woman’s lower back, helping her down the steps like a true gentleman.

The rest of the court and the guards were vacating the grim scene but the princess stayed behind, thinking. This had not been according to plan, but results were results. Only one parent remained in her way and the matron looked as if a strong breeze would knock her over. Eyeing the Queen’s now empty seat, Lillian tapped her top lip. This was going to be a piece of cake.