Bard spoke words that she didn’t hear. She couldn’t take her eyes off Draven’s figure, his stomach lying on the wood as blood poured from the lashings on his back. She heard the crowd cheer, and then saw Bard walk down front, his arm wrapping around a child’s shoulders as he handed the boy a small rock.
It was the first stone to strike her.
Aydra shut her eyes, trying to shut out the pain of the small rocks that hit her flesh from then on. The sun’s warmth shrouded her face. The crows sat on the buildings all around her. Her cheeks stiffened with dried tears.
This was the sun she would die beneath upon its setting.
The stones were nothing to the flames she knew would lick her flesh later.
Aydra didn’t remember being moved off the pole. She wasn’t in the dungeon. She was alone in the Throne Room, only the drip of the water falling over the edge being the noise in her ears.
Tied to Arbina’s tree.
Her arms were above her and a rope was strapped around her middle.
And Arbina was sitting on the steps.
The cold wind of the sunset wrapped through the open columns of the room. Aydra looked out at the ocean, memorizing her final sunset. Orange streaks littered the ocean, blues and purples cascading over the wave-like clouds above them. The teal serenity of the ocean was stark against the pinks, and she sighed her head back against the tree.
Arbina’s fingertips touched the water as she gazed down at her own reflection. “You could easily get out of this,” Arbina said.
Aydra barely had the strength to speak to her. “Go away, mother,” she managed.
Arbina’s head tilted as she laid her hands across her knees. “You would die for him? Even though his death is inevitable?”
Aydra swallowed hard. “I will die for every Queen to have ever sat on that throne. I die so that my sister does not suffer the fate I was forced to live with. I die to show the true cowardice of this Age.” The pain of her body tore through her, but she pushed it out of mind.
“Tell me mother,” she forced herself to say. “How long have you been whispering thoughts in my brother’s ears?”
Arbina stood, her arms wrapping around her as her defiant gaze met Aydra’s. “Since you decided to become the kingdom’s executioner.”
Aydra’s heart shattered, and she felt her body begin to tremble. “I should have let them freeze you,” she hissed.
A small smile rose on Arbina’s lips. “My daughter… you should know freezing would not take to my poisoned waters.”
The swell of what Draven had told her the night before filled her with a strength that made her smile. A quiet chuckle emitted from her lips, and Arbina’s weight shifted.
“What?” Arbina asked.
Aydra’s gaze met hers, and she smiled. “I wish I was going to be here to watch you burn.”
Arbina’s eyes blazed, but as she opened her mouth to speak, the doors at the back of the room opened, and a throng of Belwarks entered.
Draven was unconsciously dragged between the last two guards’ arms.
He was thrown on the ground at Rhaif’s chair, and his chains were wrapped around the stone legs of it. The guards left him and filed back out the same door. She watched as they came to stand in the gallery above the open room.
Aydra’s chest constricted with seeing him again, his hair cut short to his head, the lashings on his back. She struggled against the rope bindings despite herself.
“Draven,” Aydra managed. “Draven, can you hear me?”
He stirred just slightly, head moving around on the stone as though he were drunk. His palms pressed to the cold floor. She heard him grunting as he pushed himself up to his knees.
And then she saw the realization of where he was grace his features.
“Aydra—” He yanked on the chains, desperation in his widened eyes. “Aydra, no—”
Tears streaked her face as the doors at the back of the room opened once more.
The Council filed in, followed by her brother.
And then finally her youngers.
With Lex bringing up the end.
Aydra struggled against her bindings at the sight of Nyssa’s sobbing face and Lex attempting to hold herself together. “No— No, Lex! Get them out of here! Take care of them!” she shouted. “Don’t—”
“They will watch their traitorous sister burn with the rest of us,” said one of the Council members. “Watch what happens when you betray the crown.”
“Enough,” Rhaif said, coming around to the front. He paused in front of Draven. “Venari King on his knees, void of the shroud of hair he so called his crown.” Rhaif pushed his hands behind his back, chest puffing out proudly. “I always knew this day would come.”
“Coward,” Draven spat.
The back of Rhaif’s hand seared across Draven’s face.
“You will watch her burn, Venari. This is all because of you. This is your fault,” Rhaif hissed.
Draven spat the blood from his mouth onto the ground. “Long live my Queen,” he breathed.
Rhaif’s jaw tightened so that the veins in his neck popped to the surface. He pulled his sword from his belt and struck Draven across the cheek again, making him fall to the ground.
With a final huff, Rhaif handed his sword to Bard, and he stepped to the edge of the pool directly in front of Aydra.
“Last words, my sister,” he asked of her.
Her nostrils flared at the sight of him standing there, injured yet proud, in front of her. She swallowed hard, begging her voice to be loud enough so that they could all hear her.
“I hope you remember the days we played together,” she started shakily, her chest beginning to heave. “I hope you remember all the times we laughed. The times we
