Fell.
'THUMP.'
His body remained standing for another heartbeat before collapsing to the ground, blood pooling rapidly across the marble floor.
The severed head rolled a few feet before stopping, his expression still frozen in mid-plea.
Absolute silence.
Blood splattered across the nearby nobles who'd been standing too close. It dripped from the edges of the throne platform. It stained Heena's white gloves crimson.
She looked down at the still-twitching body, then at her blood-covered sword, and said flatly:
"Shut up."
Her voice was calm. Conversational. Like she was commenting on the weather.
She turned to look at the remaining nobles—all of whom had gone deathly pale, their faces frozen in expressions of shock and terror.
