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Juan1234
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Part 10 - alternate ending
That night, the tension grew with every hour as Kirana sat with her ladies. They had waited in their cell the whole day. Now they would wait all night. Then in the morning the princess would be crucified, and they would never sit with her again. They tried to rest, but there was little rest to be had, and none of Kirana's ladies wished to sleep away their last hours with her.
Almost no outside light entered the prison even in the day, but the subtle change in the hue of the dimness about them, along with the relative quiet from the streets outside, let them know when night had fallen. They had no other way of keeping time. When would the sun rise in the morning of the execution? They could only wait, and know that as they waited, the hour drew nearer. As the hours marched on uncounted and the fatigue of sleeplessness took its toll, there were more tears, but Kirana determined to remain calm for her ladies' sake. She never shed a tear all that night, but comforted and soothed her ladies with kind words, soft smiles, and gentle hands.
Kirana had asked the guard to advise her when there were two hours left before the dawn, and he, like almost all the rest of Kirana's Roman captors, obeyed. Then she began to prepare herself for her ordeal on the morrow. First she pulled up her gown and spread her legs so that her ladies could shave her pubic hair. This they did, tearfully, and rubbed the skin with oils, until her sex was as smooth as her face. Then she selected a long string of pearls her father had given her long ago, and set it about her bare hips. She knew she would be stripped naked, but hoped she might yet retain some sign of her royalty. She wore a second, shorter string of pearls about her neck, then donned a long, white Amunian gown. Outside this her ladies fastened a girdle woven with threads of gold. She wanted to be sure that she could bare her torso without letting her whole gown fall from her body. Finally, they placed her thin, graceful crown on her head. It, like the girdle, was fashioned from threads of gold, and at the front it bore a large ruby.
The rest of the night, Kirana's ladies braided, twisted, and wove her long, dark hair. At times they almost forgot that they were preparing her not for a palace feast, but for torture and death. At last, they finished, and the wait became worse. Some of them tried to find some imperfection in the princess's hair or dress, just to busy themselves and forget the imminent horror she faced. Kirana continued comforting them, though in her own belly the knots and tempest of terror thrashed her in waves. The feeling of nausea was ever-present, but wave after wave of realization broke against her, each one bringing the reality of her coming fate into sharper focus. She thought of sitting in Muneth's tent and embracing him just weeks ago. Where was he now? Should she have stayed with him and avoided what she now faced? Then she saw her eight maids around her, alive because she had chosen to die for them. She thought of Ayna and Khaletha. She thought of Rego... At the end of every wandering journey of thought was the tall stipes waiting for her on the mound outside the wall, and the rough beam Brutus had selected for her to hang from. She shivered. This much she could not help.
Gradually, the noise of the streets returned, and the hue of the gloom in the cell brightened just enough to let her know that morning had come. THE morning. Ah - the strongest wave yet! She swallowed hard to keep from trembling and vomiting. She grew almost inpatient to see the Brutus come for her - partly because the waiting was so terrible, and partly because she did not know if, for the sake of her ladies, she could contain her fear much longer.
Then there was the screech of an iron gate and the tramp of boots in the corridor. Kirana's heart pounded so hard against her ribs she thought perhaps everything before had been a mere shadow of fear. Her mouth was dry and sticky. It was time.
(To be continued...)
That night, the tension grew with every hour as Kirana sat with her ladies. They had waited in their cell the whole day. Now they would wait all night. Then in the morning the princess would be crucified, and they would never sit with her again. They tried to rest, but there was little rest to be had, and none of Kirana's ladies wished to sleep away their last hours with her.
Almost no outside light entered the prison even in the day, but the subtle change in the hue of the dimness about them, along with the relative quiet from the streets outside, let them know when night had fallen. They had no other way of keeping time. When would the sun rise in the morning of the execution? They could only wait, and know that as they waited, the hour drew nearer. As the hours marched on uncounted and the fatigue of sleeplessness took its toll, there were more tears, but Kirana determined to remain calm for her ladies' sake. She never shed a tear all that night, but comforted and soothed her ladies with kind words, soft smiles, and gentle hands.
Kirana had asked the guard to advise her when there were two hours left before the dawn, and he, like almost all the rest of Kirana's Roman captors, obeyed. Then she began to prepare herself for her ordeal on the morrow. First she pulled up her gown and spread her legs so that her ladies could shave her pubic hair. This they did, tearfully, and rubbed the skin with oils, until her sex was as smooth as her face. Then she selected a long string of pearls her father had given her long ago, and set it about her bare hips. She knew she would be stripped naked, but hoped she might yet retain some sign of her royalty. She wore a second, shorter string of pearls about her neck, then donned a long, white Amunian gown. Outside this her ladies fastened a girdle woven with threads of gold. She wanted to be sure that she could bare her torso without letting her whole gown fall from her body. Finally, they placed her thin, graceful crown on her head. It, like the girdle, was fashioned from threads of gold, and at the front it bore a large ruby.
The rest of the night, Kirana's ladies braided, twisted, and wove her long, dark hair. At times they almost forgot that they were preparing her not for a palace feast, but for torture and death. At last, they finished, and the wait became worse. Some of them tried to find some imperfection in the princess's hair or dress, just to busy themselves and forget the imminent horror she faced. Kirana continued comforting them, though in her own belly the knots and tempest of terror thrashed her in waves. The feeling of nausea was ever-present, but wave after wave of realization broke against her, each one bringing the reality of her coming fate into sharper focus. She thought of sitting in Muneth's tent and embracing him just weeks ago. Where was he now? Should she have stayed with him and avoided what she now faced? Then she saw her eight maids around her, alive because she had chosen to die for them. She thought of Ayna and Khaletha. She thought of Rego... At the end of every wandering journey of thought was the tall stipes waiting for her on the mound outside the wall, and the rough beam Brutus had selected for her to hang from. She shivered. This much she could not help.
Gradually, the noise of the streets returned, and the hue of the gloom in the cell brightened just enough to let her know that morning had come. THE morning. Ah - the strongest wave yet! She swallowed hard to keep from trembling and vomiting. She grew almost inpatient to see the Brutus come for her - partly because the waiting was so terrible, and partly because she did not know if, for the sake of her ladies, she could contain her fear much longer.
Then there was the screech of an iron gate and the tramp of boots in the corridor. Kirana's heart pounded so hard against her ribs she thought perhaps everything before had been a mere shadow of fear. Her mouth was dry and sticky. It was time.
(To be continued...)
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Well done. 
