Dinah angrily pushed him away. “This is not justice,” she snapped.
She felt trapped, a cat in a cage, watching Faina Baker’s dirty blond hair spill over the white marble. Faina was weeping and choking on her gag, and she kept throwing her arms out in front of her, as if she was trying to embrace the crowd. The crowd, in turn, murmured its approval. They loved a good show, and this mad woman determined not to die was giving them one. She had the look of a crazed beast, her desperation palpable and real. Dinah took a step toward the King before Harris locked his hand around her arm.
“Do NOT. You put us all at risk.”
Dinah stopped. He was right. She could not risk angering the King so close to her coronation. Her father caught her commotion with Harris from the corner of his eye. He raised his Heartsword in Dinah’s direction and then pointed it toward Faina. It was a quick, subtle movement, but Dinah understood instantly.
This was her punishment. He knew, oh gods, he knew. He knew they had been in the Black Towers, knew that Dinah had talked to her.
Faina twisted and writhed against her chains, her eyes never leaving the front row. The King picked up his Heartsword and walked the line of prisoners, taking in each one and looking into their eyes. He stopped in front of Faina, said something quiet in her ear and continued on. After he had walked up and down the long white block, he motioned to the Club Card. The crowd stirred. This was the moment they had been waiting for, and no doubt money had exchanged quick hands after the prisoners were led out. Betting on the King’s mercy was a common practice. The Card walked forward and cleared his throat.
“THE KING, IN ALL HIS GLORY AND RIGHTEOUSNESS, HAS DECIDED TO GIVE MERCY THIS DAY. THESE PRISONERS THAT LAY THEIR HEADS ON THE BLOCK ARE BLESSED, CHOSEN TO EXEMPLIFY THE JUSTICE OF WONDERLAND, THE BLACK TOWERS, THE CLUB CARDS, AND THE ROYAL LINE OF HEARTS. BECAUSE OF HIS GENEROUS NATURE, THE KING CHOOSES ONE PRISONER FOR MERCY EVERY EXECUTION DAY. THIS YEAR, THE KING’S MERCY IS GIVEN TO ROBINSON THOMAS, FOR HIS CRIME OF THEFT.”
A thundering cheer rose up from those peasants who had bet on Thomas. A handsome redheaded man clothed in rags was unchained from the line and led away, but not before he fell at the King’s feet, weeping and trailing his mouth over the King’s boots. Dinah knew what would happen to him after he left: he would be fed and bathed, and then trained as a Spade, trained to fight, to kill. As Robinson left the platform, the buzzing of the crowd grew deafening.
“Off with their heads!” screamed out a shrill voice from the back of the courtyard. “Off with their heads, off with their heads!” the crowd echoed, growing louder and louder, until the very ground rumbled with the sound.
The King motioned with his Heartsword and the executioner stepped forward. Dinah closed her eyes for a split second, telling herself what she always did on the day of execution. That life was just like this: given and taken, and that these were criminals who deserved their sentence. She would not be like the common people who relished the fall of the axe, the rush of red blood. But she wouldn’t be like the high-born ladies either, who turned away into their handkerchiefs with a whimpering sigh. She was her father’s daughter, who did not shy from the consequences of this life. Blood was just blood.
But as she opened her eyes again, she only saw Faina. She had stopped struggling and stared openly at the crowd now, a peaceful calm coming over her face as tears dripped down her cheeks and onto the marble block. She had come to terms with her death. The other prisoners weren’t faring so well, as they screamed or prayed. Dinah felt her own tears leaking from her eyes, and wiped them quickly with her red cloak. My father will not see my tears, she thought. I will not give him what he wants this day. A fury raged in her chest, hot as flame.
The headsman raised his double-weighted sword, and the first head fell. Then the second. On and on down the line, until the sword hovered above Faina. Dark blood dripped off the blade onto her pale face, a black tear mingling with her own.
I’ll truly never know, thought Dinah, I’ll never know the reason I ate a piece of paper with her name on it. She didn’t tell me enough. The Towers took my answers.