The mood in Lorrence was somber. The gallows in the city square still stood as a grim reminder of what had transpired. The once-proud kingdom had fallen to chaos and anger, and though the traitors had been hanged, the scars of their crimes ran deep. The streets were quiet now, the roar of the mob a distant memory, but an unsettling silence had taken its place.
James stood on the balcony of the inn, staring out over the square. He hadn't been able to stop the executions, and now he wondered if anything could have prevented it. He couldn't shake the image of the bodies swinging in the wind, the faces of those who had begged for mercy, and the people who had cried for blood.
It hadn't been justice. It had been revenge. And now, there was no undoing it.
Pippy appeared at his side, her expression mirroring the same weariness he felt. "They weren't going to listen, James. No matter what we did."
