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The queen was standing on a stage, a podium with a microphone in front of her. She was reading off a list of all the maids and butlers in the palace. As they were being beheaded.
"Avery Festern!" She continued in a monotone voice as the royal guard pulled the sobbing maid to the guillotine.
Micheal, the prince, watched from the crowd helplessly. He had known these people his entire life, these people who raised him when his mother refused to, and they were being killed in front of him. He knew his mother was cruel, but not to this extent.
She looked down to her paper, a sly grin formed on her face.
"And now, my loyal citizens," she waved her hands out towards the crowd, warrenting an applause. "Damien Wilinthrope. My son's personal butler." She glanced down towards the prince, her face dropping with disgust before she turned back to the crowd. "And boyfriend." Her statement emmited several gasps and shocked murmurs from the people. The guards grabbed Damiens arms, guiding him up the stairs like many before.
Micheal felt a horrible rush of blood in his veins. His stomach churned and his visioned blurred as tears threatened to start falling.
It was animalistic. An overprotective feeling, a stupid feeling.
Micheal broke from the crowd. His shoes flinging up specks of dirt on the people behind him. He raced pass the ever-shortening line of innocents. He felt the old wooden stairs creak under his weigh. For a second he couldn't bear the though it could have been one of the last things the love of his life heard. He shoved one of the guards holding Damien off and wrapped his arms around the butler.
"Please."
Micheal pleaded.
"I-I need you."
Damien squeezed the prince back, just before a second pair of guards pulled Miche off the butler.
"Stop!" The prince screamed, thrashing about in the hold of the guards. He looked to Damien once again and noticed the both of them were crying. The guards pulled the lovers in opposite directions.
"Any last words?" The queen asked, her voice a tyrannical taunt.
Damien nodded. The guards loosed their grip around him. The butler turned to the prince, a shaky smile slowly shaping on his lips.
"Maybe in another universe.."
The guards pushed the butler down onto his knees. One grabbed his hair shoving it into the mechanism.
Miche turned away. He didn't even notice when he himself had fallen upon the ground. He jolted up, the guards held his arms tightly, surely to leave marks later. Something he could use to remember this moment, though he's sure he could never forget. "Why?!" He shouted at the queen. "Why do this to all of the innocent people?" He flung out an arm to the line. The queen never even spared a second to the prince.
"This, my subjects, is the punishment for the unholy connection between two males. Something so simple, yet my own blood can't seem to understand it." She lifted her hand up into the air.
"Mother please! I beg, spare him! Take me instead!"
She dropped her hand to her side, the executioner following her guide and dropping the blade.
Micheal couldn't bear to turn his head. He knew it. He lover was dead. My the hand of his own mother, shall he ever call her that again. He dropped on his knees again, burying his head in his hands. His tears were warm against his hands. It seemed to be silent around him except his own heartbeat. It was a fast paced rythym. It kept him alive, even when he didn't want to be.
He was pulled from his silence and down the stairs, two guards on either side of him carrying his limp body away from the stage. He mumbled to himself, "Maybe in another universe. Just maybe."