A knight grabbed Ismael's shoulder and dragged him to the scaffold, kicking the back of his knee to make him kneel on the surface. The knight didn't hesitate to push him down until his neck was on the lunette.
As he secured the lunette, Ismael held his breath as he looked up. He had seen many executions in the past, and he had always wondered what sight those people see before the inevitable end. But unlike the dread he would usually see on those felons that used to be in his shoes, his lips curled up subtly.
The sight before him was beautiful and touching. The tears that were flooding the people's faces and their indistinct cries moved his heart. They weren't laughing at his demise, nor were they mocking him.
That alone… was good enough for him.
"Manuel…" Ismael whispered as his eyes softened, letting a tear roll down his cheek. "… why am I happy?"
