With one last effort, I search the crowd again, willing Caym to appear. Nothing. Just cruel faces ready to watch my feet dangle.
“Hurry on with it, Kassiel. I have guests tonight and I don’t want to wait on this harlot any longer.”
Lord Velroy.
I feel as if I’ve been splashed with ice water. It’s not lost on me that he would be the one to belittle me even farther. The vermin saunters to the front of the crowd wearing his bestbrocade vest. The golden glint of the threads is vastly different from the basic gray linens the rest of the crowd wears.
Next to Lord Velroy another man stands, clothed in all black in similar dress to The Devourer. His greasy, stringy hair dances in his face while he holds his belly as he lets out a boisterous laugh.
“Come on, Kassiel! I’ve bet with Rion on how long it takes her to piss herself!” The Nightmare shouts above the crowd.
“Do you think we should drag her by her tits after she’s dead through the streets?” More obnoxious laughter fills the silence space and disgust thickly coats my tongue. I hadn’t heard The Nightmare’s voice before now. It’s grating, deep, and devoid of empathy.
People have turned to face the vile pair, some laughing with the snide comments.
It’s not enough that they’d force me to a public execution, but now they mean to mock me and mock my death. My meaningless suffering brings them more pleasure than they could physically take from me.
But Rion doesn't stop there. His booming voice follows, “Maybe Orlin and I will fuck her cooling cunt until cum is the last thing to soil her body.”
All my other emotions swiftly leave my body until I’m left with only rage. I level my gaze upon the two men. The Nightmare snickers, as if this isn’t the first time he’s heard men speak like this.
Deviousness sparkles in his eyes as he studies me. It leaves me feeling too exposed. Vulnerable. His haunting stare leaves mine and slides to The Devourer. Whatever look he was giving me is miniscule compared to the loathing as he peers at my captor, it’s as if The Devourer is the one up here ready to be made into a martyr.
“Get on with it, Kassiel.” The Nightmare’s quick quip causes the murmurs of the crowd to silence.
The Devourer’s form tenses beside me, his grip tightening, almost possessive.
“Gods I really wish he’d die.” The murmur is so quiet I’m unsure if it was a thought of my own or if it came from the man who still has a hand on my arm.
The Devourer leads me further onto the platform and secures the noose around my neck, tightening the knot until the strands of rope bite into my skin.
“Boo... Kassiel. I was hoping it would be a slower death for her, loosen it up friend!” Lord Velroy’s voice floats across the growing whispers from the crowd, his saccharine tone making my skin crawl.
He continues, “May the Goddess send you to Haldir where your soul will be frayed and torn to bits for the scavengers of the pit to feast upon.”
I glare at the bastard, wishing he were closer as I purse my lips and spit off the platform. His eyes almost pop out from their sockets and The Nightmare’s lips pull up in a cruel smile, revealing his teeth.
The Devourer releases me quickly and I’m left there standing alone. I can still almost feel his warm grip as I look down to where he held my arm. I’m still shaken by the fact his touch hasn’t sent me to the Goddess already, perhaps I had heard wrong about his curse, not that the details matter now anyways.
He’s off the platform in seconds, nodding to the man who stands nearest the level to the trap door that will soon give out beneath me.
I scan the horizon for Kina. I scan again, nothing. The sun is almost set, the golden and pink hues smearing into the sky.
Standing for gods know how long, I finally hear someone address me, a distant voice that sounds steadfast but deflated.
“Alora Viren. You are accused of helping the rebellion known as The Hidden, treason, and conspiring to murder His Majesty the King. You’re accused of inciting unrest and causing harm to the kingdom of Noxia. These crimes are punishable by death.”
The Devourer watches me. A soft murmur from a woman in the crowd is the only sound that is heard. He continues, his voice solemn, “How do you plead to these crimes of which you are accused?”
I raise my chin, tears streaming down my cheeks, not bothering to wipe them.
“Guilty.” I focus on the faces of the crowd. “Gladly.”
His gaze burrows into me, filling my chest with something I’m not used to anymore. Pride? For a moment I can pretend that he’s staring at me in admiration, that he finds me worthy, thatIfind myself worthy.
His fist clenches and he shifts his eyes away from me, looking towards the large beam to my side. Perhaps he looks away in preparation for what is to come, perhaps for another reason I can’t place. His eyes are masked with indifference, becoming more vibrant the longer I look into them.
A voice drifts into my mind from some place within me, a whisper of longing.Kassiel.It makes no sense. I loathe this man and for what he stands for.
