Argider gasped, her hands flying to her face. "No way! That's Gander! They're gonna—oh my gods, they're gonna behead him! I mean, sure, he's kind of a tyrant, but still—"
The executioner, a burly man with a hood and a disturbingly casual attitude, raised his axe. "Any last words, you pompous snake?"
Gander looked up, his voice trembling but still managing to sound haughty. "You'll regret this! My legacy will live on! My—"
THWACK!
The axe came down, cutting his words—and his head—short. The crowd erupted in cheers, tossing flowers and coins at the executioner like he'd just performed a particularly impressive magic trick. Gander's severed head rolled a little too close to Argider's feet for comfort. She yelped, jumping back as if it might bite her.
