Today was my execution.
A hard shove had me feebly scrambling up the steps of a tall platform in the overcrowded Townsquare. The voices of thousands of elves clawed through my ears. Arguments pinged throughout the crowd, betrayed elves stating their disgust for me, a treacherous prince, and that I deserved execution for contributing to such an atrocity against my people.
A few took my side and defended me, claiming the lies I'd spewed that day were just that. Nonsense. I tuned out their theories and instead focused on the tall dais about a dozen heads across from me. King Guren and his advisors sat stoically to have an undisturbed view of my trial.
He needed to be present. Trials and executions of royalty required the authority of at least two queens. Kings, in this case.
