Page 206 of Bride By Coronation

"Ayam ta idhma atma jatavedastenedhyasva," the crowd chants, and the torches hit the ground in unison. It's another Buddhist mantra, this one for fire ceremonies.

I glance at Fiona. "Last chance. Do you want me to show them any mercy?"

She squares her shoulders, lifts her chin, and, with shaking lips, answers, "No."

"Move them over the fire!" I shout.

The knights roll their bodies over the firepits. The flames catch the bottom of Jytte's dress first, rushing up the lace while she screeches. The roses burst into fiery buds, and the threads from the rope around her arms pop apart one at a time.

Ulrich's pants catch fire. While not as fast as Jytte, the flames travel up his body until the rope around his shoulders singes.

Jytte's rope snaps apart. Her body falls, and the metal wire cuts into her neck. Her screams turn into choking sounds.

Two more minutes pass, and Ulrich's body does the same thing, falling prey to the noose.

I point at the men standing near the stage who escorted me to Pompeii and stood by Ulrich, turning on me. I command, "Behead them!"

Another round of shocked gasps fills the arena.

I roar into the crowd, "Those who dare to be disloyal to the crown shall pay! There will be no mercy!"

The knights apprehend the men. Some of the traitors try to fight. Some hold their heads high. The knights lead them to the guillotines and force two men into the contraptions. The metal blades rise to the top.

One man shrieks, "Please!"

"Now!" I order.

The sharp, shiny metal falls, slicing their necks. Two heads fall to the floor with a thud. Blood drips over them.

The foul smell of burning corpses turns thicker.

Fiona buries her face into my chest, then moans, "I'm going to get sick." She glances up, and her face is green.

"Sean, take over," I instruct, and move her off the stage, down the aisle, and through the door. I open the first door we approach.

She flies past me, runs to the toilet, and tosses her cookies.

I grab her hair, drop her tiara on the ground, and kneel beside her. I rub her back.

She sits back on her calves, her eyes bloodshot, with tearstained cheeks.

"Are you okay?" I question, removing my crown.

She leans into me, tightens her arms around my back, and says, "Let's go home, Kirill."

Nothing in my life has ever sounded better.

31

Fiona

Kirill steers me out of the room and down several hallways. We turn the corner, and the plane comes into sight.

"Wait," Valentina shouts.

We spin to face her.

Brax is close on her heels.

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