Please Kill Me - Chapter 184
In particular, Olga was very happy at that moment.
“I think my senses are coming back! All my worries are just fading away!”
When Olga cheerfully exclaimed ‘fading away,’ Vasily flinched as if he had just heard something terribly frightening, but nonetheless, everything flowed very peacefully.
Since meeting Leonid, Yekaterina had stopped sneaking out at night.
With the assurance that Yekaterina had ceased her nightly excursions, Vasily regained his peaceful bath time with the rubber duck, and the mansion was livelier than ever. Everyone avoided mentioning Leonid’s imprisonment as if it were an unspoken agreement, and Yekaterina appeared to be soaking in that peace.
Moreover, good news had arrived.
“Prince Yuri has finally risen from his bed!”
Although he could regain consciousness, Yuri still couldn’t shake off his sickly state, but he had significantly improved and was able to leave his sickbed.
“If the prince is recovering, then His Grace will surely return soon.”
“That’s likely. I was worried about what might go wrong…”
It truly felt like a stroke of luck. Since the day Yuri had been stabbed, the perpetrator had still not been caught, and naturally, Leonid had become a death row inmate under imperial orders.
But now that Yuri had gotten back on his feet, it would only be a matter of time before Leonid was released.
Not just the Rostislav mansion, everyone shared that belief and sighed in relief.
“Indeed, why would anyone dare behead the head of the Rostislav family?”
“It’s unfortunate that the Duke has become an example, but this should suffice. The Emperor will surely change his mind soon.”
Though there were some murmurs among those hoping to align themselves with Yuri or Leonid, no one openly disputed their sentiments.
Was this fact upsetting the Emperor? Or was it merely a last-ditch struggle to wield a sword one last time before dying?
On a day when the weather had completely cleared, Evgeny IV suddenly raised his finger, which was left with only skin, and issued a command.
“Bring every death row inmate to the guillotine.”
And among those inmates was still Leonid.
* * *
The Emperor is not in his right mind.
As the guillotine began to move, that thought crossed everyone’s mind.
However, it was historically common for a delusional Emperor to engage in strange behavior in his later years, so no one dared to speak up.
They only whispered about the fact that a notable figure was among the inmates slated for execution.
“Then the Duke’s execution date must be set as well?”
“I heard it’s in three days.”
“That seems quite delayed.”
“Of all people, it’s the Duke, so…”
“That square will be packed with people.”
“Not just that day! It’s already so crowded you can’t even step!”
In Ethiel, executions generally occur in two ways.
The first is exile to the contaminated forest.
The second is by guillotine.
For more serious offenses, more brutal methods like flaying might be used, but unless one commits treason, there’s little chance for the executioner to flaunt inherited skills.
Moreover, Ethiel has historically pursued relatively lenient execution methods.
This means that it is more common to exile prisoners to the contaminated forest than to open the guillotine.
The contaminated forest is teeming with enormous monsters and boasts a climate far more brutal than that of the capital, making it nearly impossible to survive a solo venture there and return alive.
However, exile is still exile. While they might be pushed out to die, there are ways to survive.
Because of this, Emperors, who care about their reputation, prefer to leave behind a record that someone was exiled rather than killed, and the guillotine has long since become an inconsequential relic.
“Is this the first time the guillotine has been opened in fifty years?”
“It’s been exactly fifty-four years since it was last used.”
People began to flock to the square to witness this rare sight.
Amidst the crowd, curious whispers grew louder about when the infamous prisoner would be brought out.
And among them was a silver-haired woman clad in a robe.
With shockingly indifferent eyes, she felt a sense of familiarity, as if she had returned to her hometown amidst all this commotion.
Yekaterina Offenbach.
She slowly closed her eyes, then opened them again with a hint of self-deprecation.
Just moments ago, she had gone out with Olga and, after hearing the whispers, made her way to the square.
— The Emperor has ordered all death row inmates to be brought to the guillotine!
— It seems Duke Rostislav is among them.
At that moment, her blood ran cold. However, the anxiety that had struck her like a wave dissipated as soon as she arrived at the square, replaced by a calm sense of reality.
The guillotine was already positioned in the center of the square, its blade hanging high as if mocking the gathered crowd.
Once that line breaks, someone will die, and someone else will be made a spectacle.
‘Yes.’
This was the world she knew.
A world where death was treated as trivial as long as it wasn’t their own. People could lament innocent deaths but would hesitate to step forward themselves.
