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She saw the red woman giving her a calculating glance as the king out right sneered at her. It was better than expected, she was still alive.
‘You want us to spare your son?’ asked the king.
‘I only want a decent death for him. A Northern death.’ a smile spread in the face of the priestess, a warm smile, as if she understood her plight.
‘Your Grace, if I may make a suggestion’
‘Get it over with, woman’
‘We should burn mother and son together, after all, she was the one who unleashed such monstrosity in the world’ the smile was warm yes, but the warmness wasn’t of tenderness as she expected. It was the warmth of a burning furnace beneath her feet.
‘Be quick about it, then’ it was the last words she heard as she screamed at the top of her lungs as red armored warriors dragged her to Ramsay’s building pyre.