My stomach felt like a nest of worms. This was so much worse than when I was waiting for my own death. I knew the trial was just formalities. There was no way Mirabelle was getting out of this alive.
The pressure behind my eyes expanded to my temples and soon I was curled up in a ball on the floor, cupping my head as it threatened to split in two.
If only I had trusted Kaspar with this earlier. If only I had gotten him to talk her out of her protesting.
If only.
If only.
If only.
But I had been too busy trying to protect myself, and now both of us might die anyway.
The waiting was excruciating. With nothing to do inside that empty room besides think, I had worried myself into severe stomach cramps. My heart would hammer every time I heard footsteps approaching, but then they would simply pass, their echoes dissipating and leaving me once again in a thick, clawing silence.
The sky had dimmed into a soft lilac when Kaspar reappeared to tell me exactly what I had expected. I almost sympathised with him for being the one to give me the news.
“When?” I asked, my voice feather-light.
His head was bent, watching me through his brows as if it was too painful to look at me head on. “Tomorrow. High noon.”
More waiting. But did I want it to be over quickly?
I pulled my knees to my chest and hugged them tightly.
“And the others?” I asked.
“Father is releasing them in the morning. He’s making them watch, so they see what happens when people defy him.”
“He’s going to make a martyr out of her. He knows that, doesn’t he?” There was a level-headedness in my conversing. I wished I could say I fought. That I screamed and yelled and cried for Mirabelle’s release. But that was simply not the case. I knew, with bone-deep clarity, that there was nothing I could do to change anything. I was just a fool in a cell.
Kaspar sighed heavily and leaned back against the opposite wall. He scrubbed his face, the tendons in his neck tense with controlled anger.
“He can’t do anything about King Oldin. He’s got Father completely under his thumb. Father feels emasculated and he’s taking that out of your friend. I am so sorry, Wally.”
I shook my head. “She’ll hate that. She’s giving up her life for helping her people, not because Cedric is having performance issues. Don’t let that be her story.”
His eyes found mine and they shone briefly at my attempt at levity in this unforgiving time.
“It’s not looking good for me, is it? If he’s trying to make a statement with Mirabelle, there’s a good chance he will do the same with me. After all, I was his fool. What greater way to show he doesn’t play favourites than having me swinging from the gallows?”
Kaspar grimaced in pain, pressing his fist to his lips.
“Could I see her? Before… it happens?”
He shook his head. “She’s in the cells with the others. Father’s keeping you separate.”
I nodded. Perhaps that was for the best. She would get to say her goodbyes to her followers in person before they had to bear witness to her…
And maybe I was a little relieved I was kept apart. What would I have even said to her? Four words burned beneath my tongue like a poison pill.
I told you so.
All this time, I had warned her. I had told her this was how it was going to end. And now it had all come to fruition. She was about to die. And for what? What had she actually achieved?
My heart was hammering. Teeth clenched so hard they were close to shattering. Nails dug into the backs of my thighs.
The anger was a coating, and as soon as I was aware of what I was doing, it simmered to nothing and left me aching and tired and empty once again.
We stayed in silence for a long moment, my eyes trained on the tense muscles of Kaspar’s neck. Then he took a sharp intake of breath and righted himself.
“This is not over,” he murmured, almost to himself. His eyes found mine, sharp and dangerous. “This is not over.”
I admired his determination, but my hope had already flickered out. I showed him an encouraging smile that felt too heavy on my lips, and watched him leave.
It was a guard who came by with my meal. My last meal? If it was going to be my last, surely they would have treated me to something better than some fatty slices of salted boar and buttered potatoes. No dessert? Really?
I think it was mental exhaustion that was my ticket to a hearty night’s sleep. Again, I wished I could tell you, dear reader, that I had been up all night, pacing my little cell and mapping out some intricate escape plan on the walls with my own blood. It was what Mirabelle deserved, I know that. But as I said before, she deserved a much better friend than the one she had in me.
Morning came and I gnawed on the stiff heel of bread I was given as I watched them construct the gallows in the courtyard. Due to the positioning of my window, I could not see much, but I figured out if I stepped back and squatted slightly, I could just about make out the bottom of the scaffold which meant I would be able to see Mirabelle’s feet when…
I dropped to the floor heavily and cringed at the sharp pain that shot up my still bruised spine. What was I doing? Why was I even looking? Being confined within those four walls was making me mad.
By the way the shadows of the erected gallows stretched across the flagstones, I guessed there was still some time.
Footsteps sounded in the corridor outside. Many footsteps. They shuffled awkwardly and were accompanied with soft, fearful murmurs.
“What’s going to happen to us?”
“Where are we going?”
“Are we pardoned?”
I recognised the voices, and even from behind the door I could picture the group being shoved down the corridor, guards on either side penning them in like cattle.
“Alta!” I rushed to the door, banging on the hard wood.
The murmurs suddenly stopped. The footsteps continued to shuffle on but their rhythmic beat faltered.
“…Wallace?”
My heart soared. “Alta!” Tears sprung into my eyes.
“Wallace! Wha-What’s going on? Why are you in there?” Her voice was trailing off. I followed her along the wall.
“You’re going to be all right! It’s all right!” I cried out and whatever dam I had subconsciously built up within me burst so violently I stumbled, cracked my head against the back wall and dropped to the floor as my whole body heaved with raking sobs.
The toll of the bell rang right through me, causing my teeth to snap so hard I nearly bit off my tongue. I was crumpled in the corner, my whole body simultaneously tense and numb. Muscles sore and spent from crying. Shadows of feet spilled through my barred window. No vantage point within my cell would allow me a view of anything beyond those ankles, and a foul taste filled my mouth at the memory of me actually seeking a good place to watch my best friend die.
I could sense from the shadows and the overlapping array of voices that the courtyard was full. Somewhere within the crowd was Alta – sweet, loving Alta. Had the king told them all what they were about to witness? Or had he set it up to be a morbid surprise?
Please welcome my special guest to the stage, Mirabelle Beckett!
My stomach roiled and I could feel the stale bread from breakfast making its way back up my throat.
A sudden hearty cheer erupted outside, a sound I knew all too well. The way that it lengthened, the cheers mixing with enthusiastic applauses and whistling meant the king was making a spectacle of himself on his balcony. Most likely waving and bowing and doing an excellent job of pretending he had a heart. I wondered if Kaspar was beside him. He mostly likely was, after no doubt getting on the king’s bad side these past few days, it made sense that Cedric would force his son to stand tall beside him and watch him enact the very thing Kaspar had been desperately fighting against. Hell hath no fury like an emasculated man. I am sure that is how the saying goes?
And then the king spoke. Every word was a lash across my heart. I cannot remember what exactly was said, perhaps my mind has blocked out the memory for my own sanity. But the premise of his speech was something about honouring his people by extracting those within the kingdom that attempted to sully the good name of Kalmador and everything it stood for without actually expressing what exactly the kingdom stood for. Treating its people like brainless puppets, perhaps?
I caught snippets of conversations running through the crowd. Most people were in agreement, reciting the king’s words back to their companions like it was something deeply moving. Others tutted, mumbling that if the king really did care, he would step out of his ivory tower and help those in need in the lower towns.
I couldn’t help but smile. Perhaps Mirabelle had not personally altered these people’s perceptions, but it warmed my heart to know that her ideals would not be lost.
When I had been the court jester, I had bared witness to a handful of hangings. They had been of the bandits and assassins who had been captured during their attempts to kill the prince. Seeing someone killed right in front of you was not pretty, but knowing that they deserved it quelled the upset in my stomach somewhat. However, as I sat and listened to Mirabelle being called upon, the shouts and jeers as she climbed the stairs to the staple, the memories helped me formulate an image in my mind I wished was not so clear.
She was not a villain. She didn’t deserve this.
When the king’s booming voice travelled through the courtyard requesting her final words, my heart stopped – my pulse not daring tobeat over her speech.
My fingers knotted in my blanket. The crowd quietened, the tension filtering through my window and pooling over the floor.
I could see her perfectly in my mind. Chin raised high as the noose was slid over her throat. Spine straight, wrists bound behind her back.
“You claim I committed treason,” she said, her voice loud and unwavering, “when my crime was simply having a voice of my own. I think that says enough, don’t you, King of the People?”
The jarring creak of the trap door and the short, shocked gasp of the audience doused my whole body in a ghostly chill. Bile rose in my throat at the soft, rhythmic squeak of the rope swaying from the new weight. It didn’t matter that I was curled up in a ball alone in the corner of my cell, I could see her. Blonde hair in that messy bun on top of her head, the frayed bits around her temples that always made her look childlike, floating and shifting in the steady breeze. My best friend.
My best friend.
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137,681 Literary Works • 672,057 Reviews
Hi MissGangamash,
Mailice here with a short review!
I'll start by saying that I've read all the last chapters in a row, so I'm partly giving a general review here, for the whole work up to the end, rather than just the chapter part itself. Mainly also because I don't want to repeat myself everywhere, as the writing style and pace are very similar here, especially with the drama.
What I particularly liked here was how the suspense clearly ramped up, making me realise that we are close to the end and that there will be an important kink in the story.
The focus on Wally's thoughts was well done, and I especially like how his strength of being humorous but also sarcastic is highlighted again, as it is here, for example:
It's a great continuation to the previous chapter where you could tell he's started to go insane, or at least started to lose his mind. Really great how it reads like that, watching an animal in a cage.
Kaspar's last words were great and emotional, you could feel the desperation and also how Wally was moved by it. But most of all I liked, and of course it hurts, that Mirabelle was executed. I was somehow convinced that we wouldn't let it come to that, but with that we lost an important pillar of support that Wally had. And with it, that kink in him where the self-reflection begins in the coming parts.
In summary, a good climax with a terrific case for Wally.
Have fun writing!
Mailice
I really didn't enjoy killing off Mirabelle but I'm glad you understand the importance of it. Her death was hinted at throughout the story and it really was the pillar of the structure of Wallace's life. The fact that he could not do anything to help her, so much so he didn't even really try, showed just how helpless he was and how little faith he had in himself.
Hi MissGangamash!
RandomTalks here with a short review!
It took me over three days to compose this review and I absolutely blame you for that. I cannot believe you really did it and before I start ranting personal opinions that has nothing to do with the actual review, let's just move on with this...
Having reached this point in the story, I think I understand these sentences from Wallace in a way I never did before. I remember the time just before the protest, when present Wallace was so driven by guilt that he could not continue writing his story to stop the tears flowing from his eyes. It had been the climax of the story of some sorts, the turning point which changed everything. I remember the conflict in Wallace in that moment when he was faced with a decision and he moved on knowing he made the wrong one. Suddenly, I understand the guilt with which present Wallace had narrated that part. I should have known right then that the story would always end in this way - Kaspar and Mirabelle, the two most important people in Wally's life at either sides, with Wallace stuck in the middle unable to reach for either of them due to his own indecision.
For some reason, I felt that there was a calculative aloofness about Wallace in this entire interaction with Kaspar. Now that his initial grief and shock and anger has subsided, I don't think he blames Kaspar for what is happening anymore. He is clearheaded enough to realize the futility of it and somehow, I know Wallace would not waste time with it. They both exude such bone-deep exhaustion in this moment - it felt like a moment of respite when they both tried to maintain a pretense of calm for the other's sake and in turn, it allowed them to simply be there without overwhelmed emotions making them break down like they really want to. For example, when Wallace was digging his nails into his thigh in response to a thought he had concerning Mirabelle. The moment he realized what he was doing, he immediately let go and at once felt emptiness fill the vacancy left by his anger. The switch was so instantaneous that I could not help but wonder if both of them saw these visits from Kaspar as an excuse to exert control over a situation where they held no control. I am very sure that if Kaspar had not been in the room, Wallace would not have minded the pain he inflicted through his nails. Actually, I don't think he would have minded the pain in any case.
There was a bitterness in Wallace's thoughts in this part that made me wonder if maybe being angry at Mirabelle would have made this whole ordeal easier for him. Because, the way I see it, yes, Wallace had warned Mirabelle several times, but he had also known that Mirabelle is not the type of person to back down. He is supposed to know his best friend, and I think some part of him was very sure of the fact that Mirabelle would see this through to the end. Because that's who she is. Knowing that, I cannot help but feel that all this could have been avoided if Wallace had been more forthcoming with both Mirabelle and Kaspar. So many other alternatives could have been found if only he had revealed the identity of both parties to each other when all this began. I am not exactly blaming Wallace; I am just saying that I understand his guilt, but not his anger. He feels helpless and desperate and he will happily latch on to any emotion that distracts him from the grief and utter sadness at what is going to happen. But just like he claims that Mirabelle should have known, he himself should have also known that this was going to happen.
Its interesting that the first interaction Wallace has with anyone who is not Kaspar, he completely breaks down. It makes me wonder if the inclusion of other people outside of this twisted affair somehow makes this entire situation more real. But then again nothing can be more real than watching the feet of your best friend and trying to push away the mental image of her expression as meets her end. That was especially cruel and I cannot imagine what that might have been like for Wallace. It also makes me wonder if he will ever be able to come back from this; if he will ever be able to look Kaspar in the eye without remembering the fact that his father killed his best friend.
I really cannot see Mirabelle as anything other than a hero. Even her last words were an act of defiance against the Palace, words spoken on behalf of her people. She might have faced the most tragic and unfair end, but she really was an incredible person. She stirred the flame for justice inside the people and even though she will no longer be there to lead them, I think we can say for certain that her life had not been a waste. She has touched others lives, she has supported and saved and she has been the best leader. I for one hope that her death motivates the people and exposes them to the cruel hypocrisy of the Palace. It really will satisfy me if King Cedric's plan to gain back his male sense of power backfires on him and turns the people against him. Honestly, there is nothing else I would like more.
But this does make me wonder about where this is heading towards. I am not clinging on to the childish hope that you are somehow going to save Mirabelle through some miracle of God. It is obvious that her death is what brought Wallace to the present moment. But while Wallace's story might pause with the death of his best friend, the Palace's story will not. Does this conflict between the Palace and the people ever get resolved? Or do they bow down in fear and accept whatever it laid out in front of them? I guess, we still have two chapters to decide the answers to those questions.
That said, I cannot believe you killed off Mirabelle! She was my favorite character from the very beginning of the story. I might sympathize with Wallace, even empathize with him, but I have admired Mirabelle from the very first chapter! I might begin to sound a little repetitive now, but I cannot believe that you killed her!
Keep writing and have a great day.
Until next time.
(the lack of exclamation marks is to establish my displeasure at this new turn of the story)
I'm sorry! D: It was foreshadowed a lot throughout the story that this was going to happen!
I did want it to come across that Wallace is just emotionally exhausted at this point. He knows what's going to happen and that there is nothing he can do to stop it.
Wallace has never really been an active person in his own life. Things seem to always happen around him and he gets swept up into things and taken along for the ride. He hadn't even planned to be the court jester, he just wanted to put on a good show way back when, and then his whole life was changed before his eyes.
I think he always knew that there was nothing he could do to stop Mirabelle doing what she set out to do, and maybe that was part of the reason he didn't even try. He has very little faith in himself in general, so actually thinking he could stop his best friend from getting killed was such an absurd nothing he didn't even humour it.
I'm actually tearing up over how much you appreciate Mirabelle <3 She really did nothing wrong. She was someone who took a stand to help everyone and she didn't deserve the end she got.
Next chapter will be up in a sec!
Hi! Salis here with a review!
One word to describe this half of the chapter: breaking.
Although not too eventful, it felt like every moment of this half had carried great meaning. The depiction of the path toward something inevitable that I still hoped would not happen.
I was surprised by the last thing Wallace wanted to say to Mirabelle. I figured it would be 'I'm sorry.' or something along those lines, because he clearly felt regret for his friend's current situation. 'I told you so.' is actually a lot more painful. It's a reminder to both the reader and the protagonist himself that what happened here had been a long way coming. And the worst part of it is it could've been avoided. And Wallace knows that.
Him actually falling asleep despite all the thoughts he was tormented by while awake was a clear sign he had given up. That part I probably saw coming, but it was still hard to read. The physical effects this whole ordeal had on him were masterfully illustrated and showed me that nothing can break a man like knowing you'll have to watch helplessly as someone you love dies.
Which brings me to the highlight of this chapter for me and maybe even of all the chapters of your story I've read so far – looking at only the feet of the ones hanged. I think that was truly ingenious and I don't think I've seen anyone use this approach before. Usually when there are executions of any type, we have a clear view of what's happening while here pretty much all of it was left to Wallace's imagination, making it that much more horrific.
More than that, the last thing he'll see of Mirabelle will only be her feet should he choose to return to the window to look at the yard again. That will be his final memory of her. I wonder if it's a mercy that he won't see the twisted face of her corpse. Maybe it would've been better if he had seen the whole thing, because now his imagination will conjure up all sorts of versions of Mirabelle in her last moments without actually knowing what she looked like.
And lastly, not seeing what happened leaves a tiny hope in my heart that maybe in spite of what Wallace heard, his friend's life was saved in the last moment somehow. Silly thing to hope for, I know, but I just don't want to give up on her yet. And I don't want to see the protagonist's soul being ravaged by her loss.
Thank you for the great chapter and keep on writing!
I wanted to show that Wallace was never the hero of this story, and he never pretended to be. He knew Mirabelle deserved more from him, she deserved him trying to beat down his cell door and run to her aid, but he knew his own limitations. He knew there was no use.
Thank you for all the praise for the execution scene! I did was it to be different than the usual. The separation between Wallace and everyone else in the court yard is also a physical representation of how much he has always been on the outside looking in. He wasn't even there amongst the crowd when his best friend died.
Next chapter will be up in a sec!