What kind of world do I live in?
What sort of place allows a boy to be killed for something he never did? That was never proven? If I'd never left, if I hadn't dared to dream…if I'd only kept to my role and silenced my heart, he'd still be alive. It was all my fault.
I can see him in my mind, as the executioner positions his axe over his neck and chops down, I can see the blood and bone and his beautiful face separating from his body…
We'd almost kissed, hadn't we? He'd been telling me about his desires, his yearning to live in the palace, his want to live my life. I couldn't fathom it, of course, and then we found our connection. We were both in cages, weren't we?
And now I'm back in mine.
I remember those big, shining eyes, sort of like an adoring puppy's face. He had the most dazzling smile I've ever seen on any man, and for a split second, I wished to anything listening that he could be my prince.
We kept getting closer…
He's gone now. He's decapitated, he's dead, and I'll never see those eyes or that smile or hear that cheerful little snark in his voice ever again.
I've lost the one man I ever even began to dream of, and I never even caught his name.