Headsman

"W-where on the earth did you hide, Mister? Why did you run away like a scared chipmunk?" Celeste's nervous holler blared and reiterated back, slapped by prominent cypress trees.

Abruptly, the lackluster swampland welcomed more darkness. A blustery wind smothered the fire lamp adjoining the stilt house and clumpy flocks of rainy drizzle poured through rotten boughs.

"Jeez!" Celeste cursed. It was indeed a bad day. Well, not only today. Actually, she rarely had any lucky days in a calendar.

Bewailing sounds ghosted through the trees. Shielding herself and the lantern underneath a tree, she ran her fingers into the downpour.

The moisture felt thicker and a pungent tang oozed from every sentient being in the place. One drop, two drop bit by bit her hand damped and stained.

Not with water but blood!

Her pulse leaped and knuckles went white. Anxiety crawled over her, prickling every niche of her body.

"Celeste!" To the deafening voice, she found herself unable to respond even though her dizzy mind was active enough to reckon it was her best friend Amelia who had warned her dozens of times not to come here.

Celeste tensed up and tried to catch her breath whilst Amelia grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the swampland. "Stop pushing yourself to troubles that extend to me. I don't want to die before my wedding."

Once they finally got rid of the swampland, Amelia left her hand and molten anger rolled through her. "Celeste. You are so fucking frustrating." She grumbled.

Regardless of what she said, Celeste's gaze swam around. The surface underneath her was now flat and replaced by hard slopes. There was no bizarre wind or rain. "I need to find him." She contended and the next second, she attempted to step into the bog again but Amelia was fast enough to impede in her way.

Grabbing her hand, Amelia forced her body to proceed towards Shadowton street.

Most of the places of Winderfell such as the shadowton street was shone lustrously by myriad crown torches and gas lamps of Great Windslor Castle. People used to say thousands of years ago the ancestors despised offering darkness to their descendants. That was the reason why they built the tall castle with thousands of flames and as a result, it came to be a sheer tradition to be followed by the next generations.

Celeste drew a sharp breath as she lumbered close to her best friend. "It was so bizarre in there. There was something really dreadful about the place." came out her enchanted response.

Amelia had been having a tough time in her almost drenched gown caused by the murky swamp. However, she halted in the path and stretched forth her hand. "Let me see what you stole."

With an abrupt nod, Celeste reached for her belt bag and on the quest of unchaining it, she realized what her best friend had said. Stealing whatever she can wherever she goes was one of Amelia's horrible habits.

Celeste gave her a squint of annoyance. "I didn't go there to steal for you."

"Oh, you fucking didn't. Villagers believe the royal family has something hidden in that land. Maybe, it's a treasure or something really precious. And well, since you had no intention to reveal that, there was nothing to do in that swampland but to step onto the border between Winderfell and Alberro which is enough to sentence one to death. Yeah! Fuck. You could have gotten caught and died. You fucking went there for nothing." Amelia continued bickering while keeping her strode but not after too long, she went numb on place hearing Celeste's voice.

"Well, not entirely nothing. I-I think... I killed someone."

She turned around, her pupils seemed to flee away in disbelief. "What?" At Celeste's nod, she stepped closer. "D-did you for real?"

Her lips parted when Celeste unfolded her hands in front of her eyes. On her skin, the bloodstains were visible.

According to her proficiency, Celeste was the mother of daredevils.

That was a reason why she would never doubt Celeste's indulged recklessness until it went overboard and turned slightly aggressive and to her wonder, if she was being honest, it finally did today.

"It's not the blood of that man. It was..." Celeste paused, hearing the footsteps that were succeeding closer to them.

In flash, she grabbed Amelia's hand and pulled her behind a tree across the street. Thanks to the sluggish darkness, if not, they had been caught already.

"Who is here at midnight?" Amelia was one to whisper first.

"It must be someone from the castle." She retorted, her gaze fixed at the sight.

Two men walked across the tree. Both of them were middle-aged and wearing vests and ankle breeches.

"Why did the king call us at this hour?" The tall, silver-haired man raised a question.

"I heard the castle needs food taster and executioner." The other man replied.

The tall man grunted. "Headsman?"

Celeste burst in on mazes as she heard the other man say. "Yes. Didn't you hear the rumors? The king will be handing over the throne to his elder son soon. I think that's why they are preparing all the stuff. It's all about..." The sound started fading away with their every step diving further.

Celeste slumped over the street once they were lost in the sight. "The castle needs an headsman before the Prince claims the throne? What happened to the previous one?"

Besides her, Amelia's face washed blank in confusion. "I don't know. The headsman's position has been always kept as a secret. But about the preparation, that's not it. I heard something different." She mumbled.

Celeste snapped her attention to her. "What did you hear?"

"I heard the King refused to retire because he doesn't want his elder son to sit on his throne. But since, he is sick now, the Prince is handling everything and called some villagers for the food taster job. But according to these people's words, he would be the king soon. What the hell is happening?" wondered Amelia.

"Right? I am curious as well. And above that, I have never entered the castle before. It's an adequate chance. Let's follow them."

Hearing what she said, Amelia gazed blankly over the street until she realized her best friend had run away, following the men to Windslor Castle. Her hand landed on her head, mouth dropped open. "Fuck, noo. Stop there, I said!"

Quick as lightning, she hoisted the hem of her skirt and hurried her legs to reach her troublesome best friend.