The next day, Damon was dressed in full regalia, his golden crown settled firmly on his head. He was finally going to address the people of Askye on their victory, the expansion of the empire into colonies, and, of course, the announcement of the princess' execution.
Walking with steady, measured steps, his guards moving in perfect formation behind him, and he made his way to the castle balcony where his family already stood. His two wives were adorned in their finest garments, as well as his two children.
"Father!" His little daughter exclaimed, ready to run into his arms, but her mother pulled her back.
"Diana! Respect the Emperor." Euphemia glared, and the girl pouted before giving a forced bow.
Damon's lips slightly twitched, though he showed no reaction. He gestured for the herald to begin.
A trumpet blared a sharp, ceremonial tune, and the hundreds gathered in the square below fell silent.
"His Royal Majesty, the Sovereign Emperor, Emperor Damon!"
As he stepped forward, the crowd bowed as one. His family followed behind him.
"The Royal Family! Her Royal Majesties, Queen Euphemia and Queen Sibyl!"
"Her Royal Highness, Princess Diana! And His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Edgar!"
Euphemia sent a fleeting glance toward the herald. Soon, her title would rise to Empress.
As the crowd lifted their heads, they chanted, "All hail the Emperor!"
Damon smiled. To his people, he was something close to divine, a god.
He raised his hand, and silence rolled back through the square.
"My people," he began, "it is a great day to be Askyean. For dominion is finally ours."
A roar of joy erupted.
"Long live the Emperor!"
"Long live the Emperor!"
He inhaled deeply and lifted his hand once more. When the hush returned, he spoke with pride swelling in his chest.
"It is with deep pride that I announce to you… the fall of Trontine."
Another explosion of cheers. Euphemia's eyes gleamed. Her husband was a conqueror; the world would remember his name. Sibyl glanced at her briefly, noticing the flash of triumph in her expression.
"And now," Damon continued, "it is a colony of the Askye Empire!"
"YEH!!!!"
Damon laughed. "For this good news, a feast has been declared. Go! Eat, drink, and be merry. For seven days, we will celebrate our victory!"
"YEHH!!!!"
"Our King! Our Emperor! He has slain thousands! Who can stand before him?"
Women burst into dance, their tambourines and flutes weaving joy into the air.
Damon laughed again, then gestured for his advisor, who had been standing at a respectful distance, to come forward.
"Those women singing, give each of them ornaments for their praise."
Gaius bowed. "As you wish, My Lord."
Turning, he left to carry out the order.
Damon looked back at the sea of people. It was time to announce the princess' execution. A thought then tugged faintly at the back of his mind. Was this too sudden?
No.
He crushed the hesitation immediately and focused on the roaring voices below, letting their adoration drown any lingering doubt.
"In the quest for achieving greatness," he began, and silence rolled across the crowd once more, "I brought back a prisoner. What you may call… a prisoner of war."
He laughed, dark and sharp, startling his young daughter. The girl clung to her mother's skirt, but one warning glance from Euphemia sent the child retreating instantly.
"You may call her my wife. Or something I purchased."
Snickers rippled through the crowd and Damon chuckled at their reaction.
"And I have decided to show her to you all, as proof that Trontine is no more."
He snapped his fingers, and his guards bowed low before hurrying off toward the dungeons to drag Nyssa out. And Damon continued his speech to his people.
Meanwhile, in the cold stone dungeon, Nyssa lay asleep on the bare floor while Oren kept watch beside her, worry coiling tight in his chest. How would they escape? No. How could they escape at all? Everything he had fought for seemed to crumble to dust.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps thundered, approaching the cell. Someone was coming. No, people were coming!
His eyes widened.
"Princess. Princess." He shook her urgently. Her eyes fluttered open.
"Hm?" She murmured, her voice still wrapped in sleep.
Oren shook her again. "Guards. They're coming," he whispered, and Nyssa's eyes flew open.
"What?"
"Yes." He stood quickly and slipped into the corner, crouching low as he pulled his dark coat over himself, hoping the darkness would swallow him whole.
The cell door slammed open, startling Nyssa. Her heart sank as four heavily built men marched in with lit torches.
"Ouch! Let me go! Where are you taking me?!" She struggled wildly, but they ignored her, yanking her upward and dragging her out of the cell.
From beneath his coat, Oren peeked a glance. They hadn't noticed him. Thank the Heavens.
But Nyssa. She was being taken somewhere dangerous, and at the worst possible time. His fists clenched helplessly. Of all moments to lose his magic… now, when she needed him most.
Nyssa winced as their strong hands dug into her arms. With her ankles chained, she could barely walk and they had to drag her through the corridors like an unwanted animal!
As they neared the outside, a deafening roar of joy reached her ears. She frowned. Celebrations? Were they having a festival?
Suddenly, she was shoved to the floor, close to where the Royals stood. They stared at her with disdain.
Euphemia's eyes narrowed at the girl, as she met her gaze. She scoffed, covering her nose dramatically.
"Ugh, she stinks."
Nyssa sent her a small, wounded glare as she winced from her faintly bruised skin from the fall.
Damon turned to her and chuckled in amusement. Nyssa's gaze steeled as they landed on his face.
"Here is our little pet."
His hand fisted in her long hair, pulling her upwards.
A sharp cry tore from her lips at the pain. "Ah!" She bit her lips, glaring at him through the sting of tears.
He smiled. He always enjoyed her defiance.
"Here is our prisoner!" Damon announced.
The people yelled in outrage and Nyssa's eyes went to them.
"Off with her head!"
"Kill her!"
"Death to the Enemy!"
Nyssa's heart sank in despair. All these people wanted her dead?
"Tell me, people of Askye. What should be her punishment!"
"Death!"
"Death!"
"Death!"
"Damn magic wielder!" One yelled in contempt and Nyssa gulped.
Color drained from her face. No, this couldn't be happening. Were they going to kill her here?!
Damon chuckled in delight and his eyes drifted to Nyssa once again. "Who am I to deny the wishes of my people?"
A loud cry erupted again. Nyssa's breath turned heavy as their eyes locked.
Suddenly, in a fraction of a second, a sword was placed at her neck. Nyssa's mind flew as her breath hitched.
She gasped when the sword edged closer.
"Please…please, don't kill me," her lips quivered in fear as she begged him. Tears began streaking down her cheeks seeing the merciless gleam in his eyes.
"Oh, so now you can plead, Nyssa?" He chuckled, "Now you face death, all your aggression is gone, hm?"
She shook her head. "Please," she sobbed, feeling the blade press against her skin.
"People of Askye!" He faced his people again, "I have decreed. In two days, she will be executed!"
A thundering cry rained in the air. Nyssa watched them with sadness, grief and defeat, as her tears kept falling.
"Death to the Enemy!"
"Trontine has fallen!"
Nyssa couldn't feel her legs, neither her hands, nor her body. She couldn't feel herself.
Her eyes stayed on the people rejoicing on her sentence. All these people wanted her dead?
She was going to die. In two days. In less than a week, in a twinkle of an eye.
Everything…. everything was gone. Her kingdom, her family….her hope.
A loud cry suddenly erupted from her mouth. "Mother!" She screamed.
The people made fun of her, mocking her outburst. Tears of pain, grief, anguish and sorrow, fell heavily from her eyes.
"Now," Damon bent to her in a whisper, "let me see how you will use magic to do anything funny."
He then let go of her hair and she fell to the floor with a dazed expression.
"Take her away." He said to the guards and they immediately carried her back to the dark dungeon.
Nyssa stared ahead blankly. It was over.