The man standing on the stage finished running the stone along the edge of the heavy axe. The sharp scraping sound cut clearly through the cold night air. He lowered the weapon and gave a short signal to the knights below.
"It's ready."
One of the knights stepped forward and grabbed the bald prisoner by the arm.
"Come on. Move."
The bald man looked up at the raised platform and immediately tried to pull back. His legs refused to work properly. Two more knights came from behind and forced him forward. When he finally saw the large executioner waiting with the axe, pure terror filled his face. He stumbled, trying to step away, but the knights held him firmly and pushed his head down onto the wooden block.
"Let me go!" he screamed, voice cracking. "I regret everything! Please, just listen to me—!"
Tears were already running down his face. The executioner glanced upward toward the special seats. Lord Manice raised one hand in a calm, decisive signal. The executioner gave a small nod, tightened his grip on the axe handle, and without a single change in expression, lifted the heavy blade high into the air.
One clean, powerful swing.
The head separated from the body and fell onto the stage with a dull, heavy sound. Blood sprayed across the wood and began spreading outward like spilled water, steaming slightly in the freezing air.
Mardy, who had been watching from above, clenched both fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Shakky noticed the reaction from the corner of her eye and spoke in a quiet, even voice.
"What is it, Lord Mardy? Are you frightened by what you're seeing?"
Mardy forced himself to swallow. He looked away for a moment, unable to meet her gaze right away.
"It's not that, Princess. I've just… never watched someone die this close before. Whenever something like this happened, I was never present. Seeing it from nearby feels very different."
When he finally looked back at her, the complete calm on her face clearly unsettled him. There was no tension in her shoulders, no flicker of discomfort in her eyes.
"Princess… you don't look shaken at all. For someone your age to sit through this so quietly… it's honestly surprising."
*(She's just a child… but after watching all of this, there isn't even a single crack on her face.)*
Shakky gave a faint, almost unreadable smile.
"Lord Mardy, have you ever killed someone with your own hands?"
The question caught him off guard.
"No, Princess."
"I have," she said simply. "Not once. Many times. At first it was frightening. The first time, my hands shook for a long while afterward. But as more blood spilled… that fear slowly left with it."
She turned her eyes briefly toward Manice, then back to Mardy.
"You'll be a lord of this place one day as well. Remember this — there will be times when, for the sake of what must be protected, you may even have to raise your hand against those close to you."
Lady Siyali's eyes widened slightly at the words. She looked at the young princess with clear surprise. Manice, however, remained composed. He gave a small nod.
"The princess is correct, Mardy. There are decisions so difficult that we are forced to make them even when we do not wish to."
He then studied Shakky with mild curiosity.
"Still, Princess… I am surprised you managed to survive among those snakes in the East. I didn't think a girl like you would last long in that kind of nest."
Shakky only smiled faintly, the same calm expression never leaving her face.
"It's not that difficult. Would a princess be afraid of the lords of her own kingdom? Besides, I can easily tell when someone is lying. Living among them was never as hard as people think."
The noise of the crowd swelled again. Everyone's attention returned to the stage.
The second prisoner was dragged forward. He was still crying, his legs barely supporting him. The knights had to almost carry him the last few steps. The executioner did not speak or hesitate. Another clean swing. Another head falling onto the blood-stained wood. The crowd's reaction this time was quieter, heavier.
By the time the third man was brought up, the atmosphere over the platform had changed. The third prisoner still showed no expression at all. Even when the knights forced his head down onto the block, his face remained empty — as if whatever had been inside him had already broken and left.
The axe rose one final time and came down with the same heavy finality.
---
Once the last sentence was carried out, the crowd began to slowly disperse. People spoke in low voices as they moved away. The night had grown deep, and the cold air felt heavier than before, carrying the faint metallic smell of blood.
Shakky stood up without saying much. Ameria followed quietly behind her, her face still pale. Derland remained near the edge of the seats for a moment longer, his eyes resting once more on the dark stains across the stage before he finally turned away.
By the time they returned to the room prepared for them, the noise of the platform had already faded into the distance. Only the quiet of the late night remained, broken occasionally by the soft sound of wind against the windows.
Shakky sat down on the edge of the bed. Ameria, still looking unsettled, moved around the room in silence for a while before beginning to prepare her food.
While carefully feeding her, Ameria finally spoke.
"Princess… why do you always try to act so cruel? You could just stay gentle and kind with everyone."
Shakky gave a small smirk.
"Oh? So you want me to leave behind a soft memory of myself? Something people can remember fondly after I'm gone?"
Ameria's expression tightened.
"That's not what I meant. And why do you keep talking about dying like it's already decided? You could also think about living longer."
Shakky took the food from her hand, then pushed a small bite toward Ameria's mouth instead.
"That's exactly why I came here."
Ameria looked confused as she chewed.
"What do you mean by that?"
Shakky fed her another bite, her voice remaining calm.
"My first reason for coming to the North was something else. But now… it's different."
"Different how?"
Shakky's eyes drifted toward the dark window.
"Now I need to go to Death Valley."
The name alone made Ameria stand up so quickly that the plate nearly tipped.
"Death Valley? Why would you go there? What is on that volcano that's so important you would risk going near it?"
Shakky raised one hand slightly, signaling her to calm down.
"Quiet. I'll explain everything… but only after we go."
She then looked at Ameria more directly, her tone leaving little room for argument.
"Before that, though, you should step outside for a while."
Ameria still looked lost and frustrated.
"Outside? But you haven't even finished eating. What am I supposed to do out there in the middle of the night? And you're clearly hiding something from me. Can I at least know why?"
Shakky shook her head lightly.
"You've been following me around with that sad face all day. That's why I'm sending you out for a short walk. As for what I'm hiding… you'll find out when the time comes."
Ameria shook her head firmly.
"No. I'm not leaving you alone right now."
Shakky put a hand on her forehead and let out a quiet, mildly annoyed breath.
"You really don't listen, do you? This is an order. Go outside and look at the stars from the balcony for a while."
Ameria opened her mouth to argue again, then closed it. An order from the princess was not something she could refuse.
"…Fine. As you wish."
She looked back at Shakky one more time before leaving. Shakky was sitting on the bed, smiling faintly and giving a small wave. The expression was gentle in a way Ameria couldn't quite understand. Still confused, she stepped out and closed the door behind her.
Once she was gone, Shakky looked down at the remaining food, then at her own small hands.
"Well then… tonight I'll eat with my own hands."
---
Ameria walked along the quiet corridor toward the balcony, still irritated and turning the conversation over in her mind.
*(I don't know what the princess is hiding from me… and why she suddenly sent me out here like this.)*
She scratched the side of her head in frustration.
*(Ahh, it really annoys me when I can't understand something.)*
She forced herself to take a slow breath.
*(Alright. Calm down.)*
When she reached the open balcony, she saw someone already standing there. He was wearing a simple white undershirt and dark pants, his arms resting on the stone railing as he looked up at the night sky. She recognized him immediately even from a distance.
"Derland… what are you doing out here at this hour?"
Derland didn't turn right away. He was still watching the stars. Ameria quietly stepped closer and, without saying anything more, wrapped her arms around him from behind. She held on tightly, as if the contact itself was helping her settle the uneasy feeling in her chest.
Derland tensed for a second, then looked down at the arms around his waist and immediately understood who it was.
"What are you doing?" he asked in a low voice. "If someone sees us—"
"There's no one here," Ameria answered softly. There was a small smile in her voice. "Just… don't push me away right now. It feels better holding you."
She rested her cheek lightly against his back for a moment before looking up.
"What were you doing out here by yourself?"
Derland kept his eyes on the sky.
"Nothing much. Just looking at the stars." A quiet, slightly bitter smile touched his lips. "When I was little, my mother used to bring me outside every night and point at them. She'd say, 'That's your uncle… that's your relative…' I used to wonder if she really thought I was that foolish."
His voice dropped lower, becoming heavier.
"But now I keep remembering her. If I had been there at that time… maybe I could have saved them."
Ameria tightened her arms around him.
"We can't change the past," she said quietly. "But we can push that pain forward and make today better because of it. That's why I told you before… forget about me and marry someone else. At least then you might have been able to live more peacefully."
Derland slowly took her hands, gently pulled them away from his waist, and turned to face her. He held both of her hands between his and pressed them against his cheek, looking straight into her eyes.
"How am I supposed to forget you and accept someone else?"
Ameria lifted one hand and placed her fingers lightly against his lips, stopping him from saying more.
"Promise me," she said, her voice soft but serious. "If something happens to me… you will marry someone else."
Derland's expression tightened. He started to pull her hand away so he could answer, but before he could speak, Ameria leaned in and kissed him.
He froze for a second, caught completely off guard. After the kiss ended, she rested her head against his chest and spoke in a near whisper.
"I know you love me. But I'm bound by a promise too. So please… just accept what I'm asking."
Derland didn't reply with words. He simply wrapped his arms around her and held her in the cold night air, the stars still shining quietly above them.
---
Back in the room, Shakky sat on the bed with a book open in her hands. At one point she glanced toward the closed door, a faint smile appearing on her face for a brief moment, before she returned her attention to the page.
Time passed slowly. It was well past midnight when the door finally opened again. Ameria stepped inside. Her eyes looked tired, and there was a light sheen of sweat on her face from the cold and the long conversation.
Shakky said nothing about it. Ameria closed the door quietly, walked over to the bed, and lay down without asking, resting her head on Shakky's thigh.
"Hey. I'm still reading," Shakky said, sounding mildly disturbed.
Ameria ignored the complaint completely.
"Princess… I have one wish."
Shakky stopped turning the page and simply looked down at her.
"After I die," Ameria said in a quiet voice, "bury me near my friend… near the Queen."
Shakky was silent for a second, then gave a small smile. She gently ran her hand over Ameria's hair.
"If I die first… then you bury me there."
A little while later, Ameria's breathing evened out and she fell asleep. Shakky continued reading in the quiet room, the only sound the soft turning of pages and the occasional gust of wind outside.
Several hours passed.
Then, in the middle of the deep night, a loud horn suddenly cut through the silence of the city.
Ameria's eyes snapped open at once. She was still lying with her head resting on Shakky's thigh. For a moment she looked disoriented, the sharp sound still echoing in her ears.
In his own room, Derland also woke, the sudden noise pulling him out of sleep.
Shakky slowly closed her book. Her expression remained calm and unchanged as the horn continued to echo across the cold streets and walls of Armond.
Something had begun.