𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 ━━━━━ 𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒆 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒕

• XIII

Dahlia once again sat in the same familiar arena. Her heartbeat increased as the seconds moved on. It was a week after the battle and the whole country was at a standstill. She turned to her right to see Timothée sitting down beside her, talking to Armie and Kian in hushed whispers.

She started to fiddle with the fabric of her dress. When she woke up, she was so comfortable and now she was dreading every moment. Dahlia looked at the commoners all lined up it that coliseum. They were talking amongst themselves and the chatter was loud. She tried to focus on her breathing, but it was getting difficult. Her chest rose up and down. Dahlia started to feel panicked.

"My swan," Timothée puts his hands on hers, stopping them from wriggling around, "This will be over soon." Dahlia blushed at the nickname he recently gave her. In the past week, they've been reading The Fleeting Swan together, curled up by a fire every night.

"I've never been more scared," Dahlia whispered. She felt like the eyes of everyone were on her, even if they weren't.

"Dahlia, look at me," She raised her head and stared at Timothée, "As long as I draw breath you will be safe." The determined look on his face sent a frenzy of emotions in her stomach. She could feel her body calm down more and more looking into his eyes.

The crowd started to holler in disapproval and anger. Dahlia broke eye contact with Timothée and looked ahead. King Edward and Prince Charlie were being escorted by many guards, chains wrapped around their legs and arms. She felt a sense of irony. It was only a short time ago when the king had Adrian in chains and now he's facing the repercussions of not only that but the terror he's unleashed upon the country.

They were brought in front of two blocks that were placed a few feet in front of Dahlia and Timothée. Their advisors stood behind. Dahlia worried about how Nicholas was doing. She didn't want him to see this, so he stayed behind in his room in the castle.

"Edward Myrila, " Timothée announced, his voice booming and ceasing all conversations around them. "You have been charged with murder, treason, and abuse of power. How do you plead?" Dahlia prepared for lies to tumble out of her father's mouth.

"Guilty." He confessed. Dahlia looked up in shock. She wondered if she had gone mad and was hearing things.

"You do not plead innocent?" Timothée was trying to keep his composure, but Dahlia could read him. He too was shocked at Edwards's declaration. "Prince Charlie, you've committed crimes against this country."

"Please," Charlie begged, "I'll swear fealty to you." Dahlia wanted to roll her eyes. He was such a coward. She was so thankful she never married him.

"Escort Prince Charlie back to his cell, we'll talk about treaties later," Timothée waved his hands in a dismissive way. Dahlia saw him command people before, but she couldn't help but notice just how well he handled situations. She had to admit, it was insanely attractive.

"Edward, you are aware that these charges will sentence you to death?" Timothée clarified.

"I'm aware, boy." Dahlia was tired of her father's attitude.

"Don't talk to him like that. He's in charge now." She broke her silence. Edward turned to her, grovelling on his knees.

"Don't talk to me like that. You're still my daughter. I still own you." He let out. Timothée leaned forward, the muscles in his jaw tensing. His hands were clasped together.

"That's my wi-" Timothée paused and sucked in a breath, "Dahlia is my betrothed and I'll be damned to let you hurt her more." Timothée looked at one of the guards standing beside Edward and nodded. The guard leaned down and tightened the chains around his hands.

"You think a bloody marriage will heal this country? You're nothing but a naive boy!" Her father's rage boils over, "And you!" He turned to Dahlia, "You're nothing but a tavern wench. Just like your mother!" Dahlia gasped at his outburst. The commoners listening in became furious and started shouting at their old king. They threw rocks into the arena, but the area was so big they never hit Edward.

"Enough!" Timothée shouted. His voice carried out everywhere, asserting his power. "Edward Myrila, for the abuse and torture you put the people through and the treason you've committed against this great country of Myrila, I, Timothée Chalamet, sentence you to die." The executioner walked up to Edward, his thick sword shining under the new sun, bringing a new spring. A new dawn to the kingdom.

"I'll admit," Edward turned to Dahlia one last time, "I couldn't kill you, but it was so much easier to kill Adrian." His mocking laugh was the only thing Dahlia could hear. She could see Armie and Kian standing off to the side and holding themselves back from attacking. Timothée leaned back, his eyes clouded with sadness for his fallen brother.

Dahlia stood up. She was going to kill him. She swore she was going to do it. Timothée sensed what she was going to do and stood up to stop her. It was too late for Dahlia ripped the sword out of the executioner's hands. With a loud cry of all the anger she's held in, Dahlia lifts it into the air and brings it down against her father's neck.

Her first kill was her own father. Right after, Dahlia realized what she did. She backed up and fell to her knees, dropping the sword on the ground. A few tears escaped her eyes. The commoners rose with thunderous applause. They were happy, yet she wasn't. She killed her demon. The one thing blocking her from happiness. So why wasn't she satisfied?

Her heart started to beat rapidly. She could feel the arms of Timothée wrap around her. He started whispering sweet nothing in her ear and tried calming her down. Her breaths became laboured as she wheezes in and out. Even though there were no walls around them, she could feel the pressure surrounding her and closing in.

Regret for her actions slithered through her body. She lost her cool and got furious, just like her father. Her father got mad and killed Adrian. She did the same thing. Thoughts blurred in her head.

"I'm just like him." Dahlia cried out. The commoners didn't notice what was happening, they were just celebrating. Armie and Kian stood around the young couple, wondering if their friend was alright. "I'm just- I'm just-" Dahlia felt light-headed and darkness clouded over her vision.

"Hey, my swan, stay here. You're alright. Stay here." Timothée pleaded. He gently shook her back and forth. His fingers grazed her cheeks.

"I'm just like him." Dahlia's voice was broken. She couldn't stand the pressure around her and leaned her head back, falling into a void of darkness. The sounds around her tuned out and Dahlia couldn't hear anything. She was stuck with just her thoughts. Thoughts that screamed the truth at her.

She was mad like her father.