As You Wish

Execution

As the wheels of the same sort of high end carriage that brought the Queen to the manor, the one you'd come to call your home, rolled over the entrance to the prison, you began to worry.

You were no stranger to violence. You'd seen countless atrocities in your life. As the daughter of a mercenary, being who you were, who you always loved to be, you'd seen it all, murder, death, crime, brutalities, you'd been a part of them, too. You'd even enjoyed most of it, fleeing your old home whenever you wanted, running through the streets where nothing and no one could stop you, until you found out that wasn't fully true. No matter how strong a person is, there will come a day when they meet someone or something that can stop them. It doesn't mean they can't start going again, however, and it doesn't mean whatever stopped them is stronger. That isn't always true, but it is fully true. Strength is subjective, and it comes from within. You always knew that to be the case, especially after you chose to live, just as Ciel did, and though how it happened was different in the extreme sense, it was the same individual who saved you. So, you'd learned a great many lessons in your young life, most importantly, how glad you were to simply be alive. Every day since your darkest hour had been exponentially brighter. You'd never feel that weak again. What doesn't kill you makes you stronger. A cliche, no doubt, but an effective one. Still, the stronger you got, the more you began to see mercy as the strongest force of all.

What could stop that power? What would anything that could use forgiveness as an offensive weapon possibly have to fear?

That sort of back and forth, hatred and pity, what you knew before and after what you saw, and experienced personally, it made everything more complicated as you got closer and closer to the end of your prosecution.

Sure, you'd been in this life, you'd seen horrible things, but you'd never witnessed something like this, like what you were about to watch.

You'd never been to an execution before. Not an official one, a military one, or simply one in a prison, and certainly, absolutely not a royal one.

You crossed your arms, more so in an attempt to cover yourself, to protect whatever pain your heat somehow still bore for this creature from permitting you any sympathy towards him. You crossed your legs too, and began to tap your foot as it hung in the air.

Ciel was anxious as well, though not for the same reasons. He simply stared out at the moving cityscape, not saying a word as you rode on. It seemed like the sun would never shine on any of you again. His breathing was irregular, and he rested his hand on his chin, his elbow resting on the windowsill, his other arm in his waistcoat, as his leg was crossed in a similar fashion. He didn't tap his foot, though.

You were broke the silence.

"How much longer is it going to be?"

Ciel was lost in his thoughts so he didn't answer. You found it odd that you'd been the first one to talk. You expected him to have some of his former drive, to tell you and his butler exactly what to say and do when you got there. Even if the Queen was your family, he knew more than you did how to act around her. You'd proven to be a terrible example of a 'lady', let alone a lady of the court. He was supposed to spare you some embarrassment, but neither of you really cared, and so you both let it pass.

Now that you were here, though, you began to fret. Ciel was evidently nervous, too. Sebastian on the other hand, was positively delighted. "Getting impatient, are we?"

"No." Your response came out cold, but as you made eye contact briefly with Ciel, your expression was hard to read. "No of course that's not..." your voice trailed off as you stopped tapping your foot and folded your arms more tightly around you.