"Burn her!"

"Burn the witch!"

The chants of the crowd rose to a feverish pitch, their voices echoing through the square. The air was thick with smoke and anticipation, and the torches burned like miniature suns, illuminating the night with an eerie glow.

Esmeralda Valienne stood at the center of it all, bound to a wooden stake, her fate sealed. The acrid scent of oil filled her nostrils, the coarse ropes dug into her wrists, her fingers numb from the cold and the weight of her sins.

She did not struggle.

She did not cry.

She merely gazed at the faces before her, some twisted with glee, others alight with righteous fury.

She inhaled deeply, the chill of the evening pressing against her skin like a final, bitter embrace. Had everything she done been for nothing?

No.

No, it had not.

She could not afford to waver now. She had accepted this fate the moment she set her plans into motion. She had accepted it long before she played her role as the villain.

For her sister to be loved, truly loved, Esmeralda had to die.

Yes, she—the evil sister who schemed, who manipulated, who forced even the most virtuous to act against their nature. The villain of this tale.

Her emerald eyes shifted toward the man who had ordered her execution.

Michaelis von Ludwig.

The Emperor of Lumaria.

Her sister's beloved husband.

His expression was as cold and unyielding as the crown upon his head. Dressed in his imperial regalia, black and gold, the colors of power and judgment, he looked like a god delivering divine retribution. The people revered him, feared him, adored him.

And most of all, they obeyed him.

Just as she had planned.

Esmeralda knew. She knew his heart burned with hatred for her.

And he had every right to hate her.

After all, Esmeralda had done everything in her power to torment the woman he cherished more than life itself. She had whispered rumors, stirred the court into a frenzy, orchestrated dangers that would test the depths of his love for her sister. She had played the villain so perfectly that not a soul doubted her wickedness. She knew that to him, she was nothing more than a wretched stain upon his beloved Claudia's life, a snake who lurked in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

And he was right.

She had tested him time and time again. Had forced him into impossible situations, had threatened the one he loved most to see if he was truly worthy of Claudia's heart.

And each time, Michaelis prevailed.

He protected Claudia without hesitation. He endured suffering, pain, and sacrifice without a second thought. He had even killed his own brother, the man who dared to lay a hand on Claudia, without remorse.

What more could she ask for?

He had proven himself worthy.

Even now, Michaelis was doing her a final favor.

By ensuring Claudia was sent away before this execution, he had spared her from the sight of her own sister burning at the stake. He had arranged everything in Claudia's absence, knowing that the gentle, kind-hearted woman would never allow such cruelty to take place before her eyes.

Michaelis was cruel. But he was also kind.

Esmeralda almost wanted to laugh at the irony of it all.

Her body ached, her wrists raw from the ropes that bound her, but her heart, her heart was strangely light.

She had done what she set out to do.

Claudia was safe. Her sister was loved. She was happy.

That was all that mattered.

The executioners stepped forward, their torches lowered to the wood beneath her feet. The dry kindling caught immediately, flames curling hungrily around the base of the stake. The heat surged upward, licking at the hem of her tattered dress.

The crowd erupted in cheers.

"May the witch burn for her sins!"

"May the empire be cleansed of her evil!"

Esmeralda closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as the fire crackled beneath her.

She was not afraid of pain.

Pain had been her companion long before this night.

She had endured worse wounds than fire, had suffered wounds no one could see. The scars of betrayal, of loneliness, of a life spent playing the villain so that someone else could shine.

Opening her eyes, she lifted her gaze toward the heavens, where the stars blinked faintly in the dark expanse. How many times had she gazed at the same sky with Claudia when they were young?

"Do you think the stars love each other?" Claudia had once asked her, her voice soft, filled with childlike wonder as she gazed up at the endless night sky.

They had been younger then, lying side by side in the garden behind their home, hidden away from the world. The scent of blooming jasmine filled the air, the grass cool beneath their backs as the universe stretched above them, infinite and unknowable.

Esmeralda had merely smiled, watching the way her sister's eyes sparkled with the reflection of the heavens. "If they do," she murmured, reaching out as if to grasp the distant lights, "then they must also know the pain of being apart."

Claudia had turned to her then, brows furrowed in confusion. "Apart? But the stars are always in the sky, always shining together."

"Some stars shine side by side, but others… others are light-years apart. They burn for each other, but they can never truly meet."

Claudia had fallen silent, contemplating her words. Then, with the certainty only a child could possess, she had declared, "Then I hope our stars are the kind that stay together."

Esmeralda had chuckled, ruffling her sister's hair. "Me too, little star. Me too."

But as she stood now, bound to the stake, fire creeping to her, she knew the truth.

Some stars were never meant to stay together.

Some were destined to burn alone.

Esmeralda turned her gaze to Michaelis one last time.

His face remained impassive, but she knew him well enough now to see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers curled into a fist on the armrest of his seat.

Was there even a flicker of doubt in his heart?

Would he ever suspect the truth?

That everything she had done, all the lies, the cruelty, the heartless manipulations, had been for Claudia?

That she had never sought to truly hurt them?

That she had played the villain because someone had to?

The fire roared higher, the heat unbearable now. It clawed at her dress, searing her skin, devouring her whole.

Yet, she did not scream.

She had already burned long before this night.

Burned with love for her sister. Burned with hatred for the world that would never understand.

Burned with the knowledge that even if Claudia did one day learn the truth, she would weep for the sister she lost but would never be able to bring her back.

Michaelis rose from his seat, turning away.

It was over.

Esmeralda closed her eyes one final time, allowing herself a small smile as the flames consumed her.

A villain must always perish in the story of a saint.

And so, she would burn.