No. No, no, no.

I can’t believe this. I can’t become Queen in place of my gracious older brother. Of perfect poised Queen Cecelia. I want to go back to a few weeks ago, to where everyone was here, Amy was innocent, and I was content knowing that I would always stay seventh-in-line to the throne. But more than anything in the world, I want to be somewhere else. Anywhere but in this room.

My knees feel limp, but I can’t lean on Eleonora either. She keeps glancing nervously at the time. I still can’t understand how she has to leave today. Today. Right after what’s going to happen. I know she has responsibilities and duties in her own Kingdom, but how does that justify it at all? She says she loves me, but at the moment I hate her more than anything, and I wish she wouldn’t grab me so tightly. I turn away from the sister who’s leaving me, to the sister who’s ruined my life.

I spot her high on a pedestal, chained up in the center of the room. Amy, but she’s not that anymore… Amelia. Her hair is a ragged blond mess and all her make-up, all her work to be the best of the best, is gone, wiped away by tears of her own. Her dress is torn. But that’s not what I see, at least not immediately. Instead, I see her glare. A glare hotter than fire, sharper than steel, and harder than stone, a glare of hatred and rage and death. And it’s aimed at me.

Right. At. Me.

“I’m innocent!” she gasps, loud and clear, through she doesn’t move her unyielding gaze one bit. “I’m innocent!”

The words make me go cold. I knew she pleaded innocent. I also knew that there were eyewitnesses. That is was unlikely——no, that it was impossible——that she was innocent. But no matter what I tell myself, the words strike a chord in my heart, and suddenly all I can think of is that she is innocent. Before she became composed and obsessed with becoming queen, even though she was only sixth in line to the throne. I think of another time. I think of the Amy, who used to sing so melodically the birds followed her, exactly like the compassionate princess she was. The Amy, who built silky pillow forts with me again and again and then toppled them over with a hearty laugh when we were little. The Amy, who grabbed my hand and told me I was her favorite sibling. She’s innocent. She didn’t kill all members of the Royal family to be Queen. Innocent. She’s innocent. She must be innocent.

And she’s going to be killed.

I sway on my feet, suddenly dizzy. There was no debate about all of this. Everything is happening so quickly. There’s no logic to this, no reason. And as the executioner brings his knife and I see a slash of silver as bright as stars pinpricking the night sky, I panic.

I use my teeth to viciously bite into Eleonora so hard that she screams as well. Guards rush to her. The executioner pauses a moment, but only for a moment. I don’t stay to watch; I turn on my heels, and in the confusion, run out of the execution room.

Run farther and farther away, from an innocent sibling who’s going to be killed.