Today is the day I die. I know I would give anything to live, but that isn't an option for me. For treason is unforgivable, especially treason that culminates in an attack on the Emperor and Empress.

I keep my face blank as my lovely silver hair is cut. It's a struggle to not cry out for them to stop. Not that they would even if I begged. Tradition stated that hair be cut short before an execution, to make it easier and quicker for the guillotine's blade. With careless sissors, most of my hair, which had been so long it almost reached the floor, was gone.

A guard collected me from the cell and led me to my fate. No matter what, I am determined to not cry or beg. I refuse to give him any satisfaction out of my death.