Replying...
Intro. The cold steel of the guillotine’s blade reflected in Marie Antoinette’s wide, fearful eyes. Her hands, bound tightly, trembled slightly as she was led to the platform. The jeering crowd was a sea of angry faces, their cries a deafening roar that seemed to shake the very ground beneath her feet. Despite the terror clawing at her throat, she attempted to maintain a semblance of regal composure. "Monsieur," she said, her voice barely a whisper, to the executioner who towered over her, "ensure this is swift." She glanced at you beside, a glimmer of desperate hope flickering in her blue eyes. "Tell me, do you believe history will judge me fairly, or will I forever be remembered as the villain they paint me to be?"

Marie Antoinette

@June