A dead silence descended upon the room.

  Well, Victor, old boy, I thought with grim satisfaction, let’s see you wriggle your way out of this one.

  King Richard was looking at Victor with an expression that could almost be described as wrathful; Queen Isabella frowned, her gentle face troubled. Lord Rockford merely sighed… a sad, weary sound. The Justiciar simply shook his head, remaining silent for a long moment as the tension in the room became almost unbearable.

  Lord Ainsworth rubbed his hands nervously, sweat beading on his forehead and trickling down his temples. He mumbled incoherently to himself for a few seconds, his eyes darting around like a trapped animal.

  Then, a truly vicious, desperate grin flashed across his face, quickly followed by a look of feigned shock as if an idea had just struck him. He jabbed a trembling finger towards Lady Ainsworth and bellowed, his voice cracking,

  “SHE’S BEHIND IT ALL! SHE COMMANDED ME FROM THE VERY BEGINNING NEVER TO CAST HER IN A BAD LIGHT! THIS IS ALL HER DOING!”

  Every eye in the room swiveled to Lady Ainsworth. But she just laughed, a short, sharp, utterly amused sound.

  “Oh, Victor…” she said, her voice dripping with scorn. “You always were such a terrible liar. If that had truly been the case, if I had given such a command, you wouldn't have been able to utter that sentence, nor make your initial accusation against me in the first place, now would you?”

  Now all eyes snapped back to Lord Ainsworth. He licked his dry lips nervously, his desperate bluff clearly called. Then, his face contorted into a mask of pure hatred, and he screamed,

  “IF I DIE, THEN I’M TAKING YOU WITH ME!”

  Suddenly, he lunged. With shocking speed, he pulled a small, wicked-looking knife from somewhere within his waistband and launched himself at Lady Ainsworth, the blade held high.

  Panic erupted in the chamber. Screams echoed off the glass dome. Lady Ainsworth lost all color from her face, her eyes wide with terror as the knife arced down with dangerous speed, aimed directly at her throat.

  Panic surged through me. I thrust out my hand, desperately trying to channel gravity magic, to stop him, to do something. But I was too slow… too far away…

  Lord Ainsworth’s knife struck—and then bounced off something unseen with a sharp thwack. The weapon flew from his grasp, clattering high into the air before landing on the mossy ground some distance away.

  He stared in bewildered confusion at Lady Ainsworth, then at his empty hand. Astonished myself, I glanced towards Lord Rockford beside me and saw that his hand was also outstretched, fingers splayed, an intense look of concentration on his face. A nearly invisible barrier, shimmering faintly like heat haze, pulsed for a moment around Lady Ainsworth, and perhaps around Lord Ainsworth too, before vanishing.

  Thank the gods he was faster than me… If only I had been here, if Rockford hadn’t acted, Lady Ainsworth would certainly be dead right now.

  “GUARDS! SEIZE HIM!” thundered the King, who was now on his feet, his face a mask of cold fury, all traces of his earlier weariness gone.

  Instantly, guards surged forward from the perimeter of the room. Lord Ainsworth, his attack thwarted, offered no resistance as they roughly subdued him. Two guards expertly clapped irons on his wrists, then forced him harshly to his knees on the grass-covered floor.

  The King spoke again, his voice loud and clear, addressing the Justiciar. “Bring the block and the sword. It is time justice is served…” But the last words, though firm, sounded utterly exhausted, sad, almost reluctant.

  The entire hall fell silent once more. No one spoke, not even Lord Ainsworth, who knelt there, head bowed, defeated. The only sound was the heavy tread of the guards’ boots as they moved to prepare the inevitable. Many people in the audience lowered their heads respectfully. Given that Lord Ainsworth was a despicable swine and a murderer, it was a surprisingly noble gesture from them.

  A short time later, two guards returned. One carried a heavy, dark wooden chopping block, the other a long, executioner’s sword in a plain black leather scabbard. The block was placed on the grass a few meters from the dais. The sword was presented to the King by a guard, who bowed deeply.

  King Richard accepted the sheathed sword with his left hand, his right hand resting on the pommel. He walked slowly to stand about a meter in front of the kneeling Lord Ainsworth, effectively positioning himself between the condemned man and Lady Ainsworth.

  “Lord Ainsworth,” the King said, his voice quiet but carrying clearly in the tense silence. Everyone in the room listened, nobody daring even to breathe too loudly. The King continued, “You have committed grave crimes against Astoria and its people. You attacked and enslaved an innocent boy, and you murdered another in cold blood. Have you any last words?”

  Lord Ainsworth said nothing. He merely lifted his head and spat contemptuously at the King’s face.

  The air in the chamber seemed to tremble… a truly strange, almost electric atmosphere settled over everyone, but the King merely closed his eyes.

  And in the next instant, blood sprayed onto his face.

  It happened faster than I could possibly follow; one second the King was motionless, the next his sword was bared and stained crimson as Lord Ainsworth’s head tumbled to the grass, followed a moment later by his slumped body.

  WHAT?! WHAT JUST HAPPENED?! I DIDN’T TAKE MY EYES OFF HIM, I DIDN’T EVEN BLINK! HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?!

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  My eyes were wide with shock as I stared at the King. I was deeply shaken by the sudden, brutal decapitation of Lord Shitsworth. I couldn’t claim it left me cold; even though he was a miserable bastard… he had been executed right before my eyes… just like Theo. But what the King had just done… it defied my understanding. How could anyone move that fast? It was inhuman. I stared at him for a long moment, but no explanation came to mind.

  The King slowly opened his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. His entire face was spattered with Ainsworth’s blood, yet he looked down at the fallen Baron with an expression of profound sorrow. He paused for a moment, his face etched with regret. He shook his head slightly, then looked towards a nearby guard, who immediately came forward. The King handed the bloodied sword and its scabbard to the guard. He then looked over to his wife, the Queen, and gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod.

  Turning back to address all present, his voice regained some of its earlier strength. “Please, hold a moment of silence and pray for this poor soul.”

  And then, to the absolute shock of everyone in the chamber, King Richard himself knelt on one knee on the grass, clasped his hands together, and bowed his head. He offered a silent prayer for a murderer.

  The people stared in disbelief, murmuring amongst themselves. But his wife, Queen Isabella, slowly walked to his side with quiet, graceful steps and knelt beside her husband, mirroring his posture.

  Incredible… I wouldn’t have expected such magnanimity from the royal couple… but maybe it was just a show, to maintain a good image.

  Then, one by one, others in the room followed their example. Even Lord Rockford knelt, his head bowed. Soon, everyone in the Chamber of Final Light was kneeling, their heads lowered in a moment of shared, somber reflection.

  I think I was the last one to finally kneel, my gaze drawn to Lady Ainsworth.

  She alone remained standing before the body of her dead husband. She stared down at him with an icy, unreadable expression, then slowly, deliberately, pulled her wedding ring from her finger and threw it down onto his corpse. The gold ring bounced off his tunic and clinked brightly against a stone paving slab near his head. She just stood there, looking down at him with an expression of pure, unadulterated hatred.

  I quickly averted my gaze and prayed with a heavy heart. I prayed for Theo. I prayed that the gods would be merciful to his soul and grant him a beautiful, peaceful, and loving new life. I gave thanks for the chance I had received, for the gift of seeing my beloved Pip again—Pip, whom I already missed terribly again. But knowing her, she was probably curled up comfortably before Lady Irene’s warm fireplace, thoroughly enjoying herself.

  For the first time since I’d arrived in this world, I truly took the time to let everything sink in, to reflect. Rebirth, monsters, gods, magic… Every day in this new world was… exciting, an adventure, though not always in a good way. I had no money. I had no home. I had no real friends besides Pip. But I had family, in her. And maybe, just maybe, we’d soon have a new home. I could certainly imagine something better than an orphanage, but it was a damn sight better than living on the streets of Aegis and risking falling prey to the medieval equivalent of an organ thief.

  But this… this was a start. And perhaps, finally, a little peace might settle in…

  But before that could happen, there were still a few things that needed to be taken care of. And that included the end of this… execution.

  Soon enough, the King rose, then the Queen, and then, one after another, the rest of the assembly stood. It was quiet again. The King stood opposite Lady Ainsworth. They looked at each other for a long moment, a strange, almost familiar understanding passing between them, yet there was something like hostility, or perhaps just profound weariness, in the air too.

  Finally, the King spoke. “Lady Ainsworth. My sincerest condolences.” He inclined his head slightly.

  A fresh wave of murmurs went through the crowd. For a King to pray for a man he’d just executed was one thing. But to then offer condolences to the widow of that same man… that was somehow… odd. Disturbing, even.

  Apparently, Lady Ainsworth thought so too. She just sneered loudly, a sound of pure contempt, then turned on her heel and strode out of the chamber without a backward glance. The King watched her go, his expression unreadable, but said nothing.

  With another heavy sigh, the King then spoke loudly, so all could hear. “Let this day serve as a warning to all those who would place themselves above the law. Live righteously, and live in peace. This session is concluded.”

  I watched as the people seemed to internalize the King’s warning for a moment. Then, most of them began to file out of the room in an orderly, subdued fashion. The King and Queen disappeared quietly and were gone.

  A hand gently touched my shoulder as I watched the people leave.

  “Come, Grim. I will take you outside,” Lord Rockford said quietly beside me. I just nodded dumbly, still processing everything.

  We walked back through the plain stone corridors, seeing people here and there scurrying from one room to another, the business of the court resuming.

  At some point, Lord Rockford spoke again. “Grim. I have been entertaining a thought for a while now…”

  A thought? I looked up at the tall Archmage questioningly.

  “With your talent,” he continued, his green eyes kind, “you should join the Mage Guild and formally study magic. You would certainly become a great mage, and thus a valuable ally to the Kingdom. If I could, I would even train you myself. But my duties simply do not allow for the necessary time. So, I was thinking, perhaps I could arrange for you to be apprenticed to another talented mage. What are your thoughts on that?” he explained his idea.

  “Absolutely not,” I replied instantly, perhaps too bluntly.

  The words earned me a more than bewildered look from Lord Rockford. “W-Why not?” he stammered, clearly taken aback. “Any other boy your age would kill for such an opportunity!”

  I nodded slowly, choosing my words carefully this time.

  “Since I… arrived in this land, Lord Rockford, only bad things have happened to me. First, I was sold off by a farmer. Then I was enslaved by a nobleman, insulted, humiliated, and nearly killed several times. And now you suggest I place myself under the thumb of another important person, only to be turned into a yeast dumpling or something if I make a mistake?” I explained, twirling a finger at my temple. 'I’m not completely crazy, you know.'

  Lord Rockford stared at me, completely aghast for a moment, then stammered, “In… into a yeast dumpling…?” He shook his head quickly, visibly regaining his composure. “Grim, I understand that you are angry, and above all, disappointed by the people you have met so far. But this would be a tremendous chance for you…”

  I considered what to say for a moment as we exited the courthouse building and stood once more on the forecourt. Apparently, Lord Rockford had already dispelled his protective barrier, because all the carriages, save for two, were gone. Only Lord Rockford’s carriage and one other remained.

  I stared up at the sky for a long moment, then looked back at the Archmage.

  “I truly thank you, from the bottom of my heart, Lord Rockford, for the support you have given me so far, and for the offer you have just made. But I think… I think I would like to pass on it, for now. I want to try and get my life in order on my own first. Then I’ll see what comes next. Is that… alright with you?”

  The Archmage paused, studying my face for a moment, then a slow, understanding nod. “Very well, Grim. I will respect your decision.”

  I nodded back at him gratefully. The Archmage smiled then, a genuine, warm expression. “Come,” he said. “Let’s return to the Arcane Sanctum. I believe someone is waiting there for you.”

  A smile finally broke through my own weariness. Oh yes. Finally, back to Pip. I nodded eagerly to Lord Rockford. He turned and strode towards his open carriage.

  I was just about to follow him when a familiar, hesitant voice called out from behind me.

  “Grim! Wait, please…”