How Pathetic and Pitiful

As soon as the Emperor’s army returned, Greta’s trial began in the imperial palace.

King Taran II—who was currently imprisoned—as well as the former royal family of the Kingdom of Riota were summoned to appear for the defense.

However, instead of coming themselves, they only sent a written statement.

“Greta has already been expelled from the family and is no longer a member of the Feodorovna household. Therefore, we have no obligation to appear for the defense. Furthermore, the Feodorovna family will not provide any defense for the criminal Greta and wishes for her to receive strict punishment according to the laws of the Elschweig Empire.”

Public opinion across the world was the same.

Whether they were involved with the Alliance or not, nations everywhere wanted this matter resolved as quickly as possible.

Petitions demanding Greta’s execution flooded into the imperial palace.

Among them was even a statement sent by Archbishop Ludovico of the Central Temple.

“We hope that strict punishment will be carried out swiftly against the heinous criminal Greta Feodorovna, who threatened the imperial family and disgraced the Central Temple.”

“Ridiculous bunch. They just want to wash their hands of this quickly, don’t they? God or no god—thinking about that old man makes me so annoyed that I’m almost tempted to keep the princess alive longer just to spite him.”

Even so—

God or no god?

Asion felt a sense of satisfaction at Jes’s words, but he also glanced around cautiously.

More precisely—he was checking whether the ‘god’ might be watching somewhere.

Jess happened to meet Riela’s eyes and quickly looked away with an awkward expression.

“I wasn’t referring to Your Majesty the Empress.”

“You were talking about me, weren’t you? I didn’t know Sir Jess thought I was that impressive.”

“I told you I wasn’t! Don’t get carried away.”

“As the great incarnation of Antu, should I grant you some divine blessing?”

Riela jokingly reached out her hand toward Jess.

But Herhan caught it before she could touch him.

Pulling her captured hand toward his chest, Herhan gave her a gentle side glance—

as if to say why are you so casually trying to touch another man?

“Forget about the temple for now. I’ve already secured evidence against them. Contact Priest Amelia.”

“Understood.”

Jess replied awkwardly.

All the ministers in the courtroom had come to the same conclusion.

The legal grounds were already sufficient.

So they would leave the final decision to the Emperor and Riela.

The Emperor finally completed the last imperial decree containing that decision.

“…A public execution.”

Asion said it quietly while receiving the decree.

The office, which had been filled with light jokes just moments ago, instantly grew solemn.

Even though everyone had expected this ending—

the weight of it didn’t become any lighter.

“Prepare the execution ceremony as soon as the motion is approved.”

“There’s no space available. Will it be held in the imperial palace?”

“No.”

Herhan’s eyes shone with determination.

“It will be held in the citizens’ plaza of Bahaborden.”

“There are many people who need to see it.”

Riela’s hand was still firmly held against his chest.

 

* * *

 

That evening.

Light entered the damp underground prison where not even the sound of a mouse had been heard all day.

Riela.

Greta felt she could tell without even lifting her head.

Calm, modest footsteps.
The faint fragrance and clear presence that followed those steps.

Greta hated herself for recognizing Riela from such small things.

“Soldier. Could you open the bars?”

“Your Majesty the Empress. It’s dangerous.”

“It’s okay. I’m stronger.”

The soldier looked slightly embarrassed at the quiet joke but obediently followed Riela’s command.

He had warned it was dangerous, but in truth there was little risk.

Greta’s arms and legs were chained, and she had grown so weak she couldn’t even stand on her own.

The only reason she was still breathing—when it would not have been surprising if she had already died—was because Jes insisted she must be placed on the execution platform before the eyes of the public.

The dark space filled with cold silence.

It was Riela who finally broke it.

“When I was imprisoned. When I was locked in the dungeon of Riota’s royal palace.”

Riela’s voice was gentle and clear, which irritated Greta even more.

“I wanted to see you then, Princess. I had so many things I wanted to ask. But you never showed your face once. Not you, not my friends, not my companions. None of you.”

“….”

“I know what it feels like to be locked alone in a prison with no one around. How lonely and frightening it is. I thought you might feel the same now.”

“So what?”

Greta clenched her teeth.

“So you came to visit me because you thought I might be scared?”

She already knew that everyone had abandoned her.

Her father. Her kingdom. The people of this land and that land.

And yet—

the one person who came to see her was Riela.

It was laughable.

“Ha. How should I thank you? That’s right. I was wondering why you hadn’t come. Acting noble until the very end. Pretending you’re the only pure one—that’s just like Riela Blinite, isn’t it?”

Greta’s mocking words fell into the cold silence.

Riela took a deep breath.

When she finally spoke again, her voice was colder and lower than before.

“Yes. That’s funny. Pretending to be noble.”

Riela didn’t waver anymore.

Thinking about it now, it had been quite a long time since Greta’s cruelty had shaken her.

The one thrashing and screaming miserably had always been Greta herself.

“How dare you…!”

Now she could barely even struggle.

Smack!

If she could at least slap her once, perhaps the anger in her chest would ease.

With that thought, Greta swung her arm.

But it never reached Riela.

Her arm flailed awkwardly in the air.

“Your Majesty!”

The soldier outside the bars rushed forward.

But Riela was faster.

She caught Greta’s wrist.

Riela had been right.

Now she was stronger than Greta.

In physical strength—

and in the invisible power she held.

“Greta. No matter what, you never tried to hit me before.”

How did things end up like this?

Greta felt as if that accusation was hanging in the air.

Her eyes turned even colder.

“So what?”

“You thought I’d become obedient once my execution date was set?”

“You thought I’d cry and beg at the end?”

“You must not know. When I went to the temple and sold you out—the Alliance bastards said they sent me. But that was my decision. I went there on my own!”

Riela didn’t reply.

Instead, she suddenly let go of Greta’s wrist and threw her hand down.

“I wish I could slap you.”

Why? Because you’re too noble to strike someone?

“My hands are only meant to protect His Majesty.”

“Unlike you, Greta, I don’t use them to slap people.”

“What would you do?”

Greta scoffed.

“You? Protect the Emperor?”

But then her smile slowly faded.

Riela was looking at her with deep pity.

Not the kind of look someone gives a filthy criminal.

Only then did Greta realize.

There was something she had been the only one not to understand.

You protect the Emperor…?

The person protected by a descendant of Antu.

“Ah.”

A hollow laugh escaped her.

The Emperor is a descendant of Enril.

That’s why he was always one step ahead.

That’s why he remained calm even after learning Fabian’s identity.

That’s why the two of them had always stood together—

as if they had been one piece from the beginning—

looking down at her desperate struggles.

Greta couldn’t even control one arm properly.

She was tossed around helplessly as Riela released her.

Riela stepped forward and reached out toward Greta, who was barely standing.

Then she pressed somewhere on Greta’s body.

“Ah—!”

The wound on her abdomen had worsened so badly that it now smelled of rotting flesh.

The place where Fabian had stabbed her.

“…It must have hurt.”

Riela’s voice remained calm.

“For someone you loved so much to leave you with nothing but this.”

But the pain tearing through Greta’s body—and soul—was unbearable.

Her mind plunged into darkness.

 

Just like the day Fabian stabbed her.

 

“Ugh…! Uuugh…!”

 

Riela did not hesitate even as blood and pus seeped from the wound.

With her delicate hand, she touched the injury and forced Greta to remember the pain again.

 

It was a crueler revenge than slapping her.

 

Crueler than cutting her throat.

 

“Before you go, make sure you understand this.”

 

“You were a daughter abandoned by your father, and a princess rejected by her people.”

 

Greta bent over in half from the unbearable pain.

 

“And you were a woman who was never loved even once by the man you wanted to believe was your lover.”

 

Riela continued her judgment.

 

“You’re nothing but a loser who never defeated me—not even once, even though you wanted me dead so badly.”

 

“And now the only thing left for you to do is die in the pain you brought upon yourself.”

 

A terrible sense of defeat rose inside Greta like nausea.

 

She tried not to make a sound, but her eyes slowly turned red.

 

“Regardless of whose descendant you were, you could have lived a different kind of life.”

 

“….”

 

“Greta Feodorovna.”

 

“….”

 

“You’re truly pathetic.”

 

“And pitiful.”

 

As if saying *I’m finished speaking—say what you want now*, Riela remained standing before Greta for a long time.

 

Only silence lingered.

 

Eventually, when Riela had said everything she wanted, she turned away without hesitation.

 

Greta watched the red figure moving farther away.

 

Then she called her name in a very small voice.

 

“Riela.”

 

The sound was as faint as the flutter of a dying bird’s wing.

 

Riela stopped.

 

“What happened to Fabian?”

 

From a distance, Riela paused as if catching her breath.

 

Without turning around, she answered.

 

“His wounds were deep. After you ran away, he was left untreated for too long. I tried, but I couldn’t save him.”

 

“I stayed with him until the end.”

 

“I brought him here and buried him in the south.”

 

Greta did not cry.

 

She had no right to.

 

In the end, Fabian and she had destroyed each other.

 

“Your execution platform will face north in the plaza.”

 

Riela added.

 

That meant— even in death, Greta would never face the same direction as Fabian.

 

* * *

 

In the center of Bahaborden’s central plaza.

 

Just one week earlier, it was the same place where the Emperor and Riela had marched through the city, welcomed by the people.

 

Where flower petals had rained down and festival laughter had filled the air.

 

Now— a tall execution platform stood there.

 

That morning, the sky had been gloomy since dawn.

 

By the time the soldiers, with solemn faces, brought out the prisoner, rain had begun to fall steadily.

 

Yet not a single person in the crowded plaza used an umbrella or a hat.

 

They wanted to watch with their own eyes— the end of a criminal who deserved divine punishment.

 

Greta was dragged out, staggering like someone already dead.

 

Once she had shone brilliantly.

 

Once she had been someone others admired.

 

Now she looked more miserable than a skinned beast.

 

Imperial officials and ministers.

 

Nobles and commoners alike.

 

Everyone looked upon Greta’s ruined figure.

 

“Greta Feodorona.”

 

An elder with long gray beard began reading the verdict.

 

Her crimes seemed endless.

 

“For attempting to assassinate His Majesty before his ascension to the throne. For framing Empress Blinite for that crime and attempting to execute her while concealing the truth. For attempting to poison her when the execution failed. For bribing a maid of the imperial palace and orchestrating the kidnapping of Empress Blinite. For again ordering the poisoning of His Majesty the Emperor. For murdering the accomplice maid Loriel Igdnis and fleeing. For colluding with the war criminal organization known as the Alliance and threatening the safety of Her Majesty the Empress, descendant of Antu…”

 

As the elder continued reading, gasps and cries spread through the crowd.

 

Some people who had almost felt pity for Greta’s miserable appearance slapped their own mouths and began pointing at her in anger.

 

As time passed, furious shouts erupted everywhere.

 

“Cut off her head!”

 

“Tear her limbs apart and feed them to beasts!”

 

“…Therefore, according to the laws of the Empire, with the consent of the Kingdom of Riota and the approval of the international council, the criminal Greta Feodorovna shall be executed by hanging.”

 

When the final verdict was announced, the crowd cheered—and raged at the same time.

 

Heavy rain poured down.

 

Greta, who had already thrown away everything she possessed, quietly stepped onto the gallows.

 

*Thud.*

 

At last, the small witch’s feet were thrown into the air.

 

Her desperate kicking continued for a moment—

 

but found nothing to stand on.

 

Soon, it stiffened into meaningless movement.

 

At the empty end of Greta’s vicious life, some people trembled while others cried out.

 

Joy and sorrow.

 

Relief and fear.

 

All of it mixed together under the pouring rain.

 

Then—someone in the plaza shouted through the heavy silence.

 

“The Emperor has won! He protected the Empress!”

 

One voice became two.

 

Two became ten.

 

And soon the entire plaza echoed with the cry.

 

* * *