My Execution

"Briara Mariam Lautrec, formerly Romanovantis, is accused of murdering the daughter of Duke Leonard Lautrec and stealing her identity, seeking the power of the throne. The punishment is the guillotine".
   The crowd is in a frenzy as I am being pushed onto the execution scaffold in the centre of the capital, Parina, in the Kingdom of Eclipse. But it is not a frenzy cheering my end. No one is smiling; instead, they boo the king, who stands satisfied on the balcony with that selfish smile that makes him look like a man of justice.
I place my head in the guillotine.
"Last words?"
It will not end here. I will not let him win, not after everything I have done for him.
"My last words are addressed to my husband, the one who falsely accused me of murdering an innocent soul, the one who forced me to take this name and to conspire for him. Maybe you will get rid of me now, but you do not know what fate awaits you; you do not know what I have seen. But you will still suffer by my hand, just as you sucked the life from your subjects without scruple". 
   The king rises abruptly. He has realised what my gift is; he has realised that I, too, am one of the Gifted. For a few seconds, everything makes sense. He flinches. I place my head on the cold wood, and the executioner pulls the rope. He will meet his end anyway, because someone's wrath will rise against him. I won't leave it like that; his fall will be my piece of art; no one will be able to take revenge except me.
    My heart pounds as if it is about to burst from my chest, and I jump out of bed, drawing air into my lungs quickly and gasping. I am drenched in sweat. A gentle voice calls me: 
"Sister, are you all right? Will you tie the ribbon in my hair?"
It was my lady, Briara Mariam Lautrec, and I am her personal attendant, though she calls me  "sister". Strange, isn't it? In two hours she will meet her end. 
   I have no name, or at least if I had one, I forgot it long ago. They say I am Briara’s sister; that is what she has called me ever since we met. “Sister”, but I only serve her, and sometimes I become her living journal. “Sister”...
   Her room is next to mine. In the middle rests a large canopy bed with golden leaves and tasselled drapes, silk sheets, a crystal chandelier like those in ballrooms, gold candlesticks, a gold mirror frame, polar bear rugs, and, on the ceiling, frescoes of angels framed by an immense baroque-style border. The dressing room is a corridor of dresses and shoes, of accessories and hats, of skirts and royal blouses.
   In the end, she must look royal; she is the fiancée of the crown prince, Alistair Romanovantis, and he is on his way to the residence of the Duke of Risteria, a cold place in the northern region of the Kingdom of Eclipse. Winter lasts six months a year, and summer also lasts six months. But summer isn't like in the capital. In Risteria, the temperatures remain below 20 degrees.
“You came. Look, Father said I should wear this bow in my hair. It bears the emblem of the royal family.”
“Of course, milady.”
Interesting, a sword crossed with a dove’s feather. Briara’s gentle and soothing voice says to me again:
“I’m nervous, sister...”
“You are beautiful, Briara. I told you to keep your head up and smile. When you are asked a question, answer briefly, and you will survive this evening.”
   She suddenly rises from the chair before the dressing table. She lowers her head. Two tears flow; her voice breaks. She cries for the thousandth time.
“Sis, why do I have to do this? I am not suited to be queen! Etiquette, nicely wrapped words, the games I must see through, they drain my strength, and Alistair laughed when I dropped the cutlery at the nobles' banquet. Surely I will trip, and they will laugh at me again, and the king and queen will say I bring a bad reputation to House of Lautrec. And my poor father, in his illness...”
   She bursts into a desperate wail and clings to my shoulders. It is no longer time for comforting; I have done that for too long. Anyway, everything will end, and I do not intend to stop it.
“My lady, pull yourself together,” I say, taking her by the shoulders and pushing her back just enough for us to make eye contact. She is astonished and stops instantly.
“S-sister?”
“No, Briara, your negativity drags you down. You have had the chance to rise and become the image of House Lautrec. So you will walk with confidence and take the prince’s arm.”
I wipe her tears. She is like a child, a child who has come of age.
“Do you know what is funny, sister?”  She leads me to the mirror and places me beside her. We look so alike. The same golden-brown hair, the same black eyes holding hidden galaxies in their gaze, the same thin nose, the same lips, the same height, the same figure. Our clothes and hairstyles set us apart. “You are my older sister, and we look so much alike physically, as if we were twins. I don’t know how I found you, but I’m glad. Our hearts are so different... they are not kindred. Although you weren't born into a prestigious family, your movements are truly noble, and your gaze dominates any room without effort. I wish you had had my life and I had been a country girl running through the fields.”
“My lady, don’t say that!” Everything until now is happening as it did in the dream. I must act as if I have no idea what will happen.
“Yes, sister. This is the truth, even though it hurts... I am sorry...”
“My lady...”
   I have no words. Something in her tone... in her words... makes me realise that perhaps what had happened was because of her will. What if she wanted to die? If I prevent the accident, I will no longer have the power to take revenge, but if I let everything happen exactly as I saw, I can take revenge on Alistair.

   I am not a good character; I was not one in the life I saw either. I want to take revenge on him for something that didn't happen, but for something that could. I want revenge for my own vanity. I was a villainess, and I intend to do it again. There will always be someone more villainous than me, and this thought makes my existence easier. I will never be the heroine. I do not seek to be understood. In fact, I do not even know what I am truly looking for.

   I am sorry, Briara, but without me in the royal house, it will not survive the hardships. With my gift, I could change something. You, on the other hand, melt like snow before fire, and if you had remained at the palace, Alistair would have eaten you alive. He can hardly wait for that. I prefer to leave you to fate. I have learned that sometimes some things must be left to destiny. It does not depend on us. 

   From the balcony, I see a white carriage approaching, accompanied by two armed riders. I breathe in deeply. My hands no longer tremble. I care about you, Briara; that is why I let you go.

   The clatter of horses gets closer. I come down at once. Our servants aren't at home. Everything is perfectly aligned. So only I remained. I open the large entrance door. A young man in white and gold steps inside, angry. His fluffy brown hair, slicked back with elegant precision, shines in the light of the lamps above the doors. His emerald-green eyes, cold and green, look around with contempt. They are the same eyes that looked at me on the day of my execution.
“I am glad you are here, Your Majesty. Allow me to escort you.”
He does not even look at me. He stands still with his eyes fixed on the central staircase. He speaks irritably.
“There is no need. Where is my fiancée? She should already be here waiting for me.”
“Milady, His Majesty is here.”
A muffled answer is heard.
“I am coming.”
   Nothing can surprise me anymore, or hold me in place. In a few moments, Briara appears, running. Her little shoes press heavily on the red velvet carpet. Her bluish dress flutters in haste, then a misstep on the edge makes her lose her balance. Her hands wave above her head, but she can't grab the bannister in time. She rolls, screaming, and in a few seconds reaches the bottom of the stairs, where she hits her head against the base of the first hard marble step, which is higher than the others. Her body twists from her neck. I hear a  “crack”, like someone breaking a small branch from a tree.
“MILADY!!!” I shout, approaching her. The prince frowns and rubs his face in frustration.
I do not flinch; I must pretend to be surprised; I must act my best. Every movement changes the future.
The prince approaches, looking down at Briara, and doesn't even bother to bend. To be expected. Just as indifferent.
“Does she have a pulse?”
I touch her twisted neck—no vital signs. I nod negatively.
He slaps himself across the face again.
“That stupid girl chose to die exactly when I need her most. If I do not bring my fiancée to the ball, my image as future king is ruined.”
I was still bent over the lifeless body of my mistress; Alistair knelt only to move the bangs from my forehead. He looked at Briara, then at me.
“I knew the resemblance was striking. That is why you will take her place tonight. You have no choice. You know everything about her. Dress up in ten minutes and come, or I will tell everyone that you pushed her.”
I do not even deign to show him surprise. I bow my head.
“ Help me undress her and exchange clothes. No one has seen anything yet. I will get rid of the corpse; I will say that her maid slipped and died. Quickly!”
   What was to be done? We exchange clothes. I don't have time to pin my hair properly, so I leave half loose and pin the rest into a crown-style bun. I sweep my bangs from my forehead and arrange them in spirals at the edges of my face. I am no longer myself. I make sure to put the bow in my hair. I hold something that doesn't belong to me; I wear the clothes of the girl who called me sister. I am an impostor. But this is the ticket to start MY execution of the greatest plan.