Never let your enemies break you down. 

That’s something you’ll always be told in one variation or another. You have to have pride. Stand tall and never break. 

But they never tell you how much you’ll have to take. They’ll never explain what to do when you reach your limit. They most certainly never tell you how your enemies will break you down. 

It’s not a vehicle barreling down a hill only to be stopped by powerful defensive magic. It’s not a fist flying toward the finest piece of armor only to be deflected. 

It’s a decay.

Decay that focuses on one piece of your home and eats away at it. It’s a piece that you don’t think much of at the time, putting off having it taken care of every day. 

Your enemies will not hit you all at once. They will eat away at you. Like termites. They will seek out and poke at the smallest insecurities about yourself. They will lay down the foundation of doubt. 

Doubt in your friends. Doubt in your family. And most importantly: doubt in yourself. 

You will be turned into a prisoner in your own body and soon enough…

You’ll be a prisoner trapped in the clutches of your enemies. 

I am nothing but a prisoner trapped in the clutches of my enemies. I failed to swallow my pride and my shame and played into the hands of those that wished to see me fall from grace. 

These were the only thoughts that swirled around my mind in my final days. These were the only thoughts that the dark and dank conditions of my cell allowed. 

The smell of rotten flesh from prisoners forgotten by time. The feeling of the dried, crusty fabric of my tattered clothes covered in both my own blood and the blood of someone else. 

The faint and whimpered crying of my fellow prisoners who had said nothing to me other than futile pleas to me as if I held any power behind these bars. Their cries were nightmares that slowly morphed into white noise. 

How long had I been here?

I couldn’t really tell you. 

Long enough to make me feel like reality was nothing but a myth. I hadn’t seen my family in so long. My mother, Cotton, Sweet, not even my youngest brother but that made sense. My mother wouldn’t have wanted him to see me like this. 

I wouldn’t want him to see me like this. 

My friends were becoming a distant memory. Faye and Ginny….Faye especially. 

She still tried her damnedest to save me. Even if deep down I knew she’d never think lowly of me, the shame was too much to bear.

I couldn’t admit that I needed help after pushing away so much. 

And this is the price I pay for it. 

A cruel death. 

Paying for a crime I didn’t do.

“Khanna! It’s time!” A brutish-sounding voice called out to me. You could tell he was from a poorer family by his accent. The Imperial family’s coat of arms finds a way to glisten even in the darkness of the cells. An insignia that taunted me.

Even with little strength, I still tried my best to keep up with the guards as they dragged me along the cobbled ground. The sun nearly blinded me as punishment for being away from it for so long. As if I had any say. 

The shouts coming from the crowd were mixed…and loud. Some citizens were crying for my release. Others were yelling all types of profanity at me. Excited to see my downfall. They even went as far as to throw food and other trash at me. 

Finally, there was a small group that simply wanted to see blood. My status didn’t matter, my culture didn’t matter, and my innocence didn’t matter. Only my bloodshed. 

As I ascended the steps to the gallows, I saw them. 

My accusers. 

Camila Blythe. The only daughter of the Blythe family. 

And the Emperor’s infamous mistress and a professional instigator.

Then there was the former Empress, Patience Conwyn. 

A woman who gained pleasure from living through her children and grasping at whatever straws of power she can. 

Finally, there was Emperor Solomon Conwyn. First son of Mathusela and Patience Conwyn. The sun to Apollo’s moon and Selene’s star. 

My husband.

I can't even remember how our marriage was arranged in the first place. It’s a union so muddled by so much of the future bullshit that it didn’t even matter.

What did matter was the looming noose that stood tall over me as the guards held me in place in front of the rowdy crowd. 

Solomon approached me with a pompous swagger in his walk. I really wanted to strangle him. 

“Empress Elvira Conwyn, you have been accused and sentenced to hanging for the attempted murder of Lady Camila Blythe via poisoning. How do you plead?” 

He spoke with a regalness that was foreign to him, doing his best to put away the common accent of wealthier Capital young adults,  and he did a terrible job of hiding his giddiness. I don’t even remember doing anything to him for him to be so happy with my suffering. I should be standing where he is if justice is the theme of the game. 

Plead? Plead what? My sentence has already been chosen. There was no trial. Just me in a coffin of snakes eager to feast on my corpse. 

“What does it matter to you? You’ve already decided my fate.” I spoke. “Do you want me to grovel?” 

Solomon smirked. “If you think it’d showcase your humility and remorse better, then yes, I want you to grovel.” 

I scoffed. “I’m not begging for your forgiveness of all people.” 

His smirk faded. “Then beg Camila for forgiveness.” 

“For what?” 

Irritated, the crowd watched with anxiety and excitement as Solomon angrily strode over to me and grabbed hold of my arm. 

The guards beside me moved out of his way to allow it. His face inches away from my own.

“You almost killed her! Admit it! Your jealousy has reached a new low and you sought to poison the poor woman for my attention.” 

I slowly turned my head to face him, I enjoyed the little hint of fear that appeared on his face. “Jealousy? Our marriage was arranged. There was no love between us. None from me and certainly none from you. Besides—” I had spoken the last bit loudly, drawing the crowd’s true focus. 

“There was no trial, there was no evidence—”

He quickly interjected. “There was no need for a trial when all evidence pointed to you, Empress.”

“What evidence?” 

There was a brief silence.

“Eye witness account saw you enter Camila’s room.”

“And the details of that account?” 

“….None of your concern.” 

The many members of the crowd jeered. Mostly the ones that were supporting me anyway but some of the others began jeering once they saw what was happening on full display. 

This was a roundabout murder. Even if they believed the gossip in the papers, it was nice knowing that they still didn’t think it was right. 

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” I say, defeated. “The only person I should be apologizing to is myself for letting this whole charade go on for this long. If you’re going to hang me, then do it. Don’t puff your chest out because you want to see me break before death.” 

That enraged him. The weight of what was unfolding didn't hit me until I saw…her.

Standing amidst the crowd, shrouded in a moss green cloak was Faye Zhao…my best friend. The main constant in my life since my family moved back to the Regina Empire. 

She had been trying to get me free from this marriage for so long. At first, I just thought she was just being her normal abrasive self but that shame and pride stopped me from going to her when things started getting rough. 

I was so sure I was being mature by not giving into Solomon and Camila’s childish antics. Be the bigger person….what a crock.

She was practically the only one in the crowd that remained still. Maybe it was because I was focusing on her but the stern look on her face just…broke me. 

If I’m gonna go out then, I should do her proud one final time and go out with a bang.

“Hear me! Once I’m gone, you can get married to your little bed warmer but your marriage will always be in my shadow. You can destroy my physical body but you’ll never destroy what hold I have on you.” 

“Don’t be ridic—”

“Ridiculous?” I rolled my eyes. “You’re the one who needs to be convinced of your superiority, not me. Do you wanna know why nothing will change, husband?” 

He didn’t respond. Neither did Camila and Patience. 

“You make enemies of everyone who tells you ‘no’. It’s what’s going to happen to me…and it’s what happened with your father.” 

That statement riled up the crowd. There was no real love lost between the civilians and the Imperial family outside of stalwart royalists, but hinting at such a scheme will always send excitement through them…and cause trouble for Solomon. 

The seeds of doubt. 

“I wonder who would be next…would it be your cousins? Maybe your mother? Maybe you’ll grow tired of Camila and get rid of her? You’re in charge now, aren’t you? Imagine how many lives you can—no will ruin in your position.” 

“ENOUGH!” Solomon shouted. 

The murmuring started between all of the civilians. Faye sent a sad smile in my direction. I rested my eyes as I felt the noose being gently lowered around my neck. 

“I tried giving you a chance to repent and you spat that chance back in my face. Should’ve known better. You were always so…childish.” He gritted his teeth in anger. “On the honor of the eight, do away with her.” 

I felt the rope slowly tighten around my neck and braced myself for whenever the floor gave away. Almost like the executioner was toying with me. Everyone waited with bated breath. 

Then it happened…

The floor beneath me opened its jaws and I fell through. A series of panicked screams filled the area. I felt as if my heart sank into a lower depth than my body did. 

My body’s descent only halted when death’s tongue kept me from dropping completely to the ground and a violent surge of pain had me seeing white. 

There was a sickening snap that only I could hear but judging from the shocked and excited looks that flavored the crowd, they might’ve heard it too. 

Almost instinctively, my body tried to force a desperate plea for help. As if anyone would or could help me. I felt myself slipping. My vision blurring and fading. 

Not too long after…I felt my body go limp before my mind finally melted away. 

There was nothing but darkness surrounding me. I was still in the same disgusting clothes as before. The only reasonable conclusion was that I was dead. 

There were so many debates on what awaited us once we cross that rainbow bridge to the other side. Everyone had their opinions. Some said it was darkness. 

“𝔻𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕪 𝕒 𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕦𝕕𝕖”

A voice spoke out to me. The tone was ominous but soothing. Then a spark formed from the darkness. A bright red one that gently flew about with a soft trail of light behind it. 

“𝔸𝕟 𝕚𝕟𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕖 𝕞𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕓𝕖 𝕞𝕖𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕖. 𝕐𝕖𝕤?” 

I simply nodded. What am I gonna do? Argue philosophy with a disembodied voice?

“𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕚𝕤𝕙 𝕥𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕨𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕚𝕟𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕔𝕖?” 

………

“No.” I answered plainly. 

“ℕ𝕠?” 

“I’ve had enough of this bullshit to last me many lifetimes. Rich or poor, the mental toll finds a way to us all. I’m not dealing with it again.” 

“𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕟𝕕 𝕠𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕒𝕔𝕔𝕦𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕤?” 

“They’ll get their comeuppance.” I crossed my arms. “You’re a bad instigator, you know? I’m not accepting a do-over just to mess with the Conwyns, I’ve spent enough time near them and thinking about them.” 

“𝔸 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥’𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕟?” The voice spoke. 

“Hm?” 

A series of visions appeared before me. Women, men, anyone in the middle, and anyone outside of it all flashed before me in quick succession. All of them in the middle of their life. 

Some were playing with their children. Others dabbled in their hobbies such as painting and sitting in front of a light blue screen that I didn’t recognize. Some were eating with friends. Others were working at their jobs. 

“𝔸 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕞𝕒𝕤𝕜. 𝔸 𝕤𝕡𝕪. 𝔸 𝕓𝕦𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕥 𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕡𝕠𝕚𝕤𝕠𝕟.” 

“You really want me to have this vengeance? Why?” 

“𝕀𝕥 𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕘𝕟𝕤 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕤. 𝔸 𝕕𝕠𝕠𝕞 𝕞𝕠𝕤𝕥 𝕘𝕝𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕤.” 

“Will my loved ones be hurt?” 

“𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕨𝕚𝕝𝕝 𝕓𝕖…𝕔𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕕.” 

“And this actor? What do they have on the Conwyns that my friends and family don’t?” 

The light let out a mischievous chuckle. “ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕚𝕥…𝕒 𝕠𝕦𝕥𝕤𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣’𝕤 𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕨.” 

I didn’t know what that meant but the voice seemed sure that this was in the best interest of me and my family. 

“𝕃𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕖~” 

…….

“Fine…I’ll leave this all in your hands then.” 

“𝔼𝕩𝕔𝕖𝕝𝕝𝕖𝕟𝕥~” 

The darkness soon faded and I found myself sitting alone on a balcony overlooking an ocean with a purple sky hovering over it. 

The sound of footsteps behind me oddly didn’t strike anxiety in me as it has in all those years living with the Imperial family. 

A hand was gently placed on my shoulder. 

“I had hoped to see your mother here before one of you.” 

I recognized the voice and a soft smile grew on my face as I looked up at my father’s solemn expression. 

“Hi, daddy.”