The Heart of a Wielder (Book One of The Wielders Trilogy) ✔️

Chapter Sixteen

The day of the execution was rainy and cold and miserable. Donovan thought it felt rather appropriate. He would have rather done anything than take Lady Maren into the city to watch someone be hanged, but he had found no way of extricating them from the event.

They rode in a speeder driven by a palace driver. He kept glancing nervously at Lady Maren, but she remained stoically silent as she looked out the window.

She had been subdued since the night the prior week when they had had dinner with Alec. She had been friendly and cordial, but also far quieter than she had been in the weeks prior. He suspected she was mulling over some difficult topics. He would have liked to help her somehow, but he wasn't sure there was anything he could do.

Donovan did at least resolve to not let Kieran come between them. Their alliance was far too beneficial to both of them to allow Kieran to cause strife. And, he had to admit that having a relationship with the lady that was closer to friendship than enmity was far more pleasant than their early interactions.

They arrived at the Amphitheater. It was one of the oldest structures in the city, and had the dubious distinction of being used for the execution of "witches" for hundreds of years. It was a large stone bowl-shaped structure open to the air. There was a flat area in the center lined with stone benches that climbed the walls. Most of the Capital citizens could fit in the Amphitheater, although executions were rarely that well attended. They happened too often to be a matter of great public interest.

The driver stopped along the rear of the Amphitheater, where the royal family and other notable guests disembarked. When they had both exited the speeder, he offered his arm to Lady Maren, and she took it. Her hand was not trembling, but did seem to grip his arm more firmly than usual.

He glanced at her. She appeared to be impassive and only vaguely interested in her surroundings. It was the perfect impression of the other nobility in attendance, but he suspected she concealed strong feelings beneath that façade.

Donovan noted that there were more members of the Court arriving at the Amphitheater than were typical of this sort of event; he expected the King's presence accounted for that. If the King was there, surely there was good reason for everyone at Court to attend. Little did they know the whole thing was a spectacle orchestrated to cause distress to just one minor member of the nobility.

He led that member of the nobility to the marble-lined box at the front and center of the Amphitheater that was reserved for the royal family. He took his place at the left of the King's seat and gestured to Lady Maren to sit beside him. They sat quietly as the surrounding seats filled with nobles and magistrates. He watched across the space as citizens of the city filed in.

He avoided looking at the gallows.

Donovan had always found executions distasteful and did not attend unless his presence was specifically requested. But while he had always disliked them, he had never felt such inner turmoil about the executions before. He would rather not watch someone die, but he also assumed it was justified.

Now, he was not so sure.

If he had learned anything about Light Wielders in the last few months, it was that he knew very little about them. He could no longer assume that each and every "witch" was evil or even dangerous. Lady Maren had proved herself to not be either. He wondered if the woman he was about to watch die had ever saved anyone.

Donovan tilted his head to Lady Maren and whispered in her ear, "Are you all right?"

He felt her nod in response, but she remained silent. He decided to let her be.

The King and Queen arrived (he was always careful to think of them as the King and Queen and not his mother and father when they attended official functions), and he and Lady Maren rose to curtsy and bow and murmur, "Your Majesties."