"It's about her, isn't it?"
The question fleeted within the crowd. Their tones hushed and their voices filled with obvious dislike. their eyes wandered to a certain place. The plaza.
"Who is she?" Curious voices there asked. Who is she? What heinous crime, could she have committed? What warranted such punishment? At, such a young age at that...
" You don't know?" Other voices looked in surprise. They whispered among the crowd as if they were a thief, afraid of being caught. Before, covering their mouths to reply as fast as they could.
"Oh, you have no idea...". Others snickered openly, they fanned themselves as they whispered. Their voices glazed with poison as they spread the word more. When they filled the ears of those who inquired without much of a filter in their words.
Two sides of the same coin. Two perspectives, the same situation. Everyone could not believe their ears, their eyes couldn't wait to search for a certain figure among the crowd.
The air was thick with unspoken emotions as everyone's gaze instinctively shifted to him, the man who had raised her. His expression, however, remained inscrutable.
A mask that concealed his inner sorrows or has the embers burned even more fiercely than ever because of this matter.
Or, was this just another face he usually wore, even for this day.
The onlookers, unable to decipher his thoughts, grew uncomfortable, their eyes darting away as if the moment had never occurred, leaving the matter aside so casually. They began conversing within their ranks. Their words barely a whisper when spoken aloud.
"That woman..." While among the crowd below, others refuse to even call her name and they avoided her as if she was plague. They refused to even look at her but still watched as they paraded her in that cage.
Why would she do that? On such an important day, too. Others wondered deep in their hearts. It was a grand celebration, the foundation day was yesterday and everyone else was still drunk in the euphoria.
"You see, .... if you grow up like her, can you see how you wound up in life!" Some voices heavily warned at their children. Their tone heavy as the sensible ones dragged them their children away from the mayhem.
" What a child!" Others looked at her with flabbergasting pity as she passed by.
Old men and women shook their head altogether in disapproval at her.
"Vile woman"
"Crazy woman!"
" Could she really do that?" Others couldn't imagine it, they wondered aloud.
" Crazy"
When a blindfolded woman walked to the middle plaza, the men grabbed her arms tightly and jeers broke out at her dishevelled sight. Lips with a nay a sip of water for days , stretched taut, in harmony with the anxious anticipation hanging in the air.
Bloodshot eyes followed her every step.
They surrounded her without a word.
Watching her so she wouldn't escape.
It was so gratifying that she wasn't dragged like an animal but hoisted instead.
The people in the back, men and women, young and old, stared at her with undisguised contempt. Curses spilled from their mouths, each word sharper than the last.
Around her or those closer than others leaned forward, eyes glinting with something darker than contempt. At last, someone started showering her with cows' dung , starting something.
Rotten fruit and stones flew from unseen hands, thudding against her body causing her each step to bruise her feet further, leaving them swollen and blue, the skin scraped raw and bloody, barely recognizable as human. Behind her a trail of blood. It was ghastly sight but not for the crowd.
Especially for the woman, no better than the age of 12.
The crowd slowed for a moment, then paused entirely. She was lifted onto a platform, her thin, faded dress whipping in the wind. A gust of air lifted the hem like a ghost. Fluttering it high, for people to see underneath. Even as some eyes audaciously leered, she remained silent, unmoving, as the world waited for her to crumble.
Unfortunately for them, her spirit refused to crack.
Her clothes may have hung loosely and her hair may have been clumped with filth, but they could not conceal her porcelain skin and her hair the symbol of a noble family.
Her ethereal visage respected and revered, now an image ridiculed by the masses.
Such is life.
"Silence!"
The compelling voice parted the sea of noise to stillness. It's authority impeding the outrage from escalating farther.
Their tongues curled and lips zipped, their gaze fixed on a dashing young man dressed in splendid garments and showered with gold. Each footfall is thunderous and a rhythmic clackin was heard, his back is straight, and his posture is correct. One you'd see in someone who've trained for years.
"May the sun eternally shine upon our Empire,
May the stars guide us with wisdom,
The Holy Empire blaze in glory forevermore."
The commoners slipped to their knees to greet their crown prince. The nobles simply bowed in greeting, as did the knights.
Except.
Except for two.
The executioners attempted to assist them, but it just led to further mayhem. Without a sound, the woman tried to get rid of the men who were still holding her. Men who had the audacity to touch her, she thought.
She refused to concede without struggle.
At this point, The prince stood next to the convicted felon, their faces barely inches apart. Maybe the girl felt it, because she instantly calmed down. A sneer upon her delicate lips, still looking soft but if you look close enough. It was already cracked and dry.
The men eventually pinned her in place. However, her head raised high and her stern gaze masked behind the blindfolds indicate otherwise. She turned abruptly to face, that familiar breathing and spat!
Spitefully and accurately, at that same hatred-filled gaze.