“I hope you burn, you bastard!”
Veni ignored the tomato sliding down his face. He didn’t have any free hands to wipe it away as he shuffled forward with his ankles chained and his wrists manacled before him.
“I remember the whore,” he said as more shouts sounded. “She begged for her life while being cut to pieces.”
Tucker, somehow still able to be shocked by this man, looked at him in horror. I stared straight ahead while sickness churned in my stomach. Dahlia was a good woman and a better friend. She didn’t deserve such a fate.
I couldn’t wait for him to die.
For centuries, I’d yearned to be the one to destroy the man who helped create me, but now that the time was here, ravenous hatred didn’t boil within me. I almost felt a little sorry for him.
Never once, in his entire life, had he known love. My mother had believed herself in love with him, and I vaguely remembered her trying to show it to him, but he’d rejected her every time before destroying her.
I’d tried hugging him when I was still too young to understand that this man despised me. The last time I tried, I was four and clearly recalled the way he’d shoved me to the ground, straightened his tunic, and sneered down at me. My mother had rushed forward, scooped me into her arms, and carried me away.
“Do not baby him!” the duke had bellowed after us.
That was the day she stopped loving him, and I was sure it was the day he started seeing her as an obstacle to me. She only lived for two more years.
Veni deserved everything he’d gotten over this past month, including his death today, and he’d die without ever knowing the greatest gift of all: love.
When we reached the top of the stairs, my gaze fell on Ellery, my gift. She held Scarlet’s hand while Ruby stood on the other side of her daughter.
Ruby had decided against bringing Billy here; she felt the boy had experienced too much death and violence recently. He wasn’t happy about it, but he’d agreed to stay home.
When the duke spotted the tree trunk set at the top of the stage and the amsirah crowding the stairs and gathering around the chopping block, his knees buckled, but he quickly steadied himself. He raked the nearby amsirah with a look of utter disgust. Despite everything that happened, he still believed they were less than him.
After this, only three aristocrats would remain: The Countess of Halsbad and the Baron of Muzek’s two daughters.
We would execute them one day, but first one of them had to open a portal out of Tempest. I was sure at least one would do so without too much persuasion.
However, the amsirah, in a realm-wide vote, decided against opening a portal anytime soon. Yes, we all wanted the freedom to do so again, but we also had a lot of rebuilding to do.
Most amsirah felt it best to accomplish that rebuilding without fear of another realm invading while we were weakened. Most residents were happy with the vote, but others harbored resentment over it. We could never please everyone.
Eventually, the time would come to open a portal. When it did, the amsirah would find a way to break the curse keeping us trapped.
Until then, we had to work on establishing new laws, a new way of life, and castles to keep each village and town safe from invasion. We wouldn’t tear down all the standing castles, but some would fall, including the duke’s newly built monstrosity that he’d been so proud of.
I’d already informed him of this decision and smiled as his face turned red; he didn’t respond, but his rage was palpable. I was the one to make this choice, since I was now the rightful owner of that awful place.
The castle served no purpose in terms of location. We would use the stones to build other castles better situated in the towns and villages they would help protect. I hated the place, but some good would come from it.
CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
Ryker
When we arrived at the chopping block, the amsirah on the stage practically salivated as they swarmed. The duke cringed away from them but somehow managed to keep his revulsion evident on his face. The prick would go to his grave an arrogant asshole.
As we came to a stop, I suspected I’d have to knock his knees out from under him, but the duke knelt elegantly. He remained staring straight ahead, unwilling to acknowledge all those who couldn’t wait to see him dead.
“I wish you realized that your actions are what brought you here today, but you still blame everyone else for your downfall,” I told him.
“I only blame my fucking traitor of a son,” he snarled.
“It’s funny you still consider me your son. I stopped thinking of you as having any relation to me months ago. You’re nothing to me. So much so that I have no intention of watching this.”
I hadn’t known I planned to walk away until the words left my mouth. To him, my presence, even though he loathed me, would reassure him that a part of him would never die.
