The crowd of people watched withdrawn breathes as Goyre mounted the podium. Basten was on his knees on the podium facing the crowd. At the edge of the execution field, his mother cried and wailed, pleading with the goddess. “My son is innocent!” She cried. “He was bewitched by the cursed princess.” Rudo held her back, his eyes blazing with hate for Merea. How did he let himself become manipulated in her web of lies and deceit in her eagerness to assume the most powerful seat of Eyrotia? How he was sacrificing his son because she declared him an obstacle to her plans. He remembered her words. “Sacrifices need to be made.” He was paying the biggest price for being on her side. Goyre fashioned a sword from her metal gown and held it over Basten’s head. She looked at the crowd gathered. “This is a lesson to everyone who stands against queen Merea. And to anyone who chooses to betray me.” She raised the sword, it caught the sun on its shiny surface. As she
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