The dedication is for the wonderful new cover!
Chapter 10
“I don’t understand. The door’s locked,” I murmured, shaking my head in confusion.
“But you said they let you in as a visitor?” my father questioned.
“They did. Something must be wrong. Maybe they just switched guard duty and the new guard doesn’t know that I’m not supposed to be in here. Don’t worry, I’m sure it’s something simple and will be fixed promptly.”
“I hope so,” my mother whispered, a worried expression plastered onto her grime ridden face.
Right as the words came out of my mother’s mouth, a set of keys began to jingle and the door swung open.
I shot my family a look that clearly showed them that everything was going to be alright.
“All of you, out,” a group of guards ordered.
“Excuse me?” my mother asked.
“You’s all gettin’ yer trials now.”
“I’ve already had my trial. I’ve been found not guilty,” I explained.
“Then ya shouldn’t be in jail, now should ya?” the guard chuckled.
“The judge said I could visit these nobles because it was their fault I was put in jail in the first place.”
The guards rolled their eyes, staring down at me like they would a stupid, little child. “Tha’s wha’ they all say, isn’ it?”
“But I’m telling the truth!”
“Well, if you’s found not guilty once, ya can do it ag’n.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but I was quickly pushed away from the guards and my family by a swarm of prisoners, filing out of their cells. Some prisoners I recognized as nobles, while others looked to be priests or political leaders.
“What’s going on?” I whispered to the people surrounding me.
“I don’t know,” a young girl who appeared to be my age answered. Ripped and dirty noble clothes hung on her tiny frame, and her eyes shone with panic.
Bands of peasants were racing through the crowd, hollering and cheering as they led us to the courtroom. Once at the door, they began pushing and kicking us through until we were all crowded into the cramped room. The same judge sat at the same tiny desk, but this time he was dressed up in exaggerated aristocrat clothes, and on his head he wore a white wig. His eyes roamed hungrily through the crowds. They paused when they landed on me. With a smirk, he waved his gloved hand and then continued his inspection. I tried to get his attention again, but he only ignored me.
He knew, I thought. He knew all the prisoners were going to be sentenced, but he still encouraged me to visit my family. He wanted me to be brought back here, but why?
“Order in the court!” the judge shouted, gleefully. “Now, who wants to be sentenced first? Come on now, don’t be shy. You there, make your way up here.”
Two peasants grabbed a noble man and threw him into the middle of the room. All chairs had been removed from the room, so the man was forced to kneel and stare up at the judge.
“You are a noble, correct?” the judge asked.
“Yes, but I have done nothing wrong,” the man argued.
“Have you not hired servants and ordered them around?”
“Yes but--”
“Guilty!” the judge grinned, evilly. “Your sentence is death.”
YOU ARE READING
The Guillotine Survivor
Historical FictionMarie Lisle use to have it all. Her life was all planned out for her. Born as a French noble, Marie could have anything her heart desired. After her parents planned a profitable engagement to her cousin Pierre, Marie's future began to look bright...
