63

Princess Yeri.

I groan as the mountain of a man drags me across the castle. His grip on my arm is like a bear trap and I don’t even have the atom of strength to refrain. I stumble, dragged across the uneven ground by King Ozar all across the castle. The execution ground isn't a dank chamber, but a desolate circle carved into a rocky peak. The wind howls, whipping my cloak and banners of the surrounding.

High above, the sky is a canvas of fading glory. Streaks of orange and violet bleeds across the horizon, a remnant of the setting sun. A sliver of a new moon hangs low, leaving the execution area to be an exposed ground. King Ozar lets go of me and I stand still, staring at a single post at the center. It is worn out by countless executions. Heavy, iron collar hangs from a chain and it loops around the top, glinting dully in the fading light. There are no blood staining the rocky ground. However, the elements played their part – the wind carried the tang of iron, and a testament of pas