amidst angry shouts and cheers, he backed away.
The crowd cheered. Finally, they were standing up for themselves.
Royce felt a surge of optimism. A turning point had arrived. All the peasants, like he, had had enough. No one wanted their women taken anymore. No one wanted to be thought of as property. All of them realized that they could be in Royce’s position.
Royce scanned the mob, still desperate to find Genevieve – and his heart suddenly leapt as he spotted her at the edge of the courtyard, she, bound in ropes. Nearby stood his three brothers, they, too, bound as well. He was relieved to see that at least they were alive, and uninjured. But upset to see them bound. He wondered what would become of them, and he wished more than anything that he could take their punishment for them.
As the crowd swelled, the magistrates looked more nervous than before, and they looked to Lord Nors with uncertain glances.
“It is your law!” Royce called out, finding his voice, emboldened. “Not ours!”
The crowd let out an enormous roar of approval, as it surged forward dangerously, pitchforks and sickles raised high in the air.
Lord Nors, scowling back down at Royce, held up his hands, and the crowd finally quieted.
“My son is dead on this day,” he boomed, his voice heavy with grief. “And if I were to uphold the law, you would be killed, too.”
The crowd booed and swarmed threateningly.
“And yet,” Lord Nors boomed, raising his hands, “given the situation of our times, killing you would not be in the best interests of the crown. And thus,” he said, turning and looking to his fellow magistrates, “I have decided to grant you mercy!”
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