[08]The End of The Rope
He had heard whispers that justice was blind. He disagreed.
Was it not just to take everything into account rather than judge with a narrow perspective?
Indeed, throughout the trick he had considered every possibility. Names. Ages. Origins.
Motivation.
He consider murder, exile, execution.
He even considered letting her go with him.
The thought didn't last long. Who could possibly be trusted beside himself to ensure that everything worked for the good of the nation? For the good of all?
Nobody. He was absolutely alone. Not one being, not his father, not even God, could be trusted.
Especially not Eisenheim.
But here they were, everyone, bowing down at his whim; claiming his parlor tricks to be miracles and his lies to be revelations. He was misleading the world, leading them against the crown-prince himself, and they followed without a word.
If people would follow him like that! If they could see his reason and justice and follow where he would lead, the empire could be saved!
But all was lost.
As he stood before the Inspector, frenzied, shaking, his gun in hand–
–Not his gun. The gun his father had given him.
He could hear the police coming, coming for him, though he had done nothing wrong.
He had only wanted to save what he could. He had only wanted to change the tide, the world.
But they wouldn't listen.
"I am surrounded by idiots." He whispered. "I can't take it."
He looked up calmly at the Inspector.
"I can't take it."
He put the gun to his temple, and pulled the trigger.
(A/N: [Twelve Shots of Summer] Week 8
Super late, that I am.
The Illusionist has always been a film that I enjoyed, but it wasn't until my most recent viewing of it that I really started to understand the prince.)