Azrael stood at his window, watching the sun rise over Thornfield. The crowd was gathering in the public square below. The executioner was preparing, and guards were leading the man to the platform.
His three children stood at the front of the crowd, held by an elderly woman, probably the orphanage matron. Even from this distance, Azrael could see their tears.
The messenger's words echoed in his mind.
Her Majesty has begun working as an independent cooperation consultant. She is building a career separate from Thornfield.
The executioner looked up towards Azrael's window, waiting for his signal. Azrael raised his hand. The executioner was ready to proceed but then Azreal lowered his hand. It was a signal to wait. Then he turned from the window and went down to the public square.
"Stop!" Azrael ordered as he reached the platform. "Stop the execution!"
"Your Majesty?" The executioner asked, confused.
