The air around the execution site was tense, heavy with anticipation, as the crowd filled every inch of the square. The people murmured in low, fervent voices, but their eyes were locked onto the figures standing on the raised platform, a platform that would soon serve as a symbol of justice for the empire. All eyes were on Izan, their crown prince, standing alone at the front of the platform, his expression resolute and grave. It was his duty to address the kingdom, to speak on behalf of his father who had been too devastated by the betrayal to stand here himself.
Izan took in the crowd, their faces a blur of anger, sorrow, and grim satisfaction. He could feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on him. His gaze hardened as it fell upon the condemned, bound and disgraced, stood his stepmother, the former empress, her son Lucian, and their once-powerful ally, Cedric. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with the dawning horror of what awaited them.
