Day 4 execution flavor
King Edmond raised his scepter, pointing it at Emma Maison. “She is part of the conspiracy against us!” he said, biting his lip.
Internally, he trembled slightly with fear. Two Kings had died in less than a week; he’d never planned to join his reenactment group’s bureaucracy – as far as he could tell, half of the King’s job was to fill out annoying paperwork and finalize rental agreements – but their organizational bylaws had clear rules governing succession, and he wasn’t about to break the rules.
Emma’s voice snapped him back to attention. She clenched her fists, looking him in the eyes. “And what of it?” she said.
“What of it?” said King Edmond. “You’ve murdered half the reenactment group!”
“Some things are more precious than life itself,” said Emma. “Tell me, Edmond, would you give up on your principles, if it was the only way to save your life?”
“Of course not!” said Edmond.
Emma smiled slightly, drawing a dagger from beneath her clothing. “Then you understand why I do what I do,” she said. “The past is sacred, the only lantern we have to guide us in this forsaken world. To claim to imitate the past while befouling it – that is something I cannot abide by.”
“That doesn’t mean you’re allowed to do murders!” said Edmond.
“The heroes of the past are honored even if they should find it necessary to claim a life,” said Emma. “But perhaps, it is not necessary.”
Emma shifted her eyes from the King now, scanning the crowd and stopping for a moment to make eye contact with each individual person in it. “I accept that this is my fate,” she said. “But we still have an hour yet until sundown, when the bylaws say I shall depart. If any of you wishes to speak with me, you know where to find me.”
