Anne Boleyn and the Executioner by Eliza Nastou

Her eyes were the first thing that struck me. Dark and beautiful, they still haunt me every night, not letting me sleep, appearing even in my dreams. That day of May, one moment I was marvelling at their sight and the next one I was feeling the intense need to hide; it was like they could see my face behind the mask and my soul inside my sorry body.
It was just an execution, I tried to comfort myself, like any other I had performed, nothing special, wasn’t it? It certainly was not just another one. She was a woman, she was a Queen, she was innocent. How can I be so sure? I am the last face hundreds of people saw in their short lives. I have looked at each and every one of them, looked them in the eye in their final moments and saw sometimes fear or terror, sometimes guilt, sometimes acceptance. Rarely peace, rarely faith, but never joy. Never till that day. Lady Anne seemed almost happy as she walked towards me, a smile in her face, like a maiden walking the churche’s aisle at her wedding day, like a woman in love walking towards her sweetheart’s arms.

No guilty person does that, believe me, I should know.

Many people were gathered like vultures to watch her die -if I could I would never, never willingly be a witness to another human being’s demise- I watched them, some were smiling, some seemed thirsty for blood. She spoke to them, powerful yet humble words, her innocence ringing so clearly through them; why could nobody hear it?
She then came to me, her small hand touched mine as she handed me a coin; I asked for forgiveness, my voice harsh and trembling and she replied sweetly in my tongue: “Je vous excuse, Monsieur, soyez gentil avec moi.”
I could not delay the unavoidable any more- once again I had to perform my sad duty. Her eyes blindfolded, she seemed for the first time upset, anxious. I felt the need to make it easier for her, for the innocent Queen I had to kill, risking the eternal damnation of my soul, even if she had forgiven me. I called my helper to fetch my sword, although it was already in my hands. She never saw her end coming and I was gentle and quick as she had asked. The beautiful eyes would never see the world again and since that morning I would never stop seeing them, asleep or awake.

1 thought on “Anne Boleyn and the Executioner by Eliza Nastou”

  1. WilesWales says:

    What a wonderful way to express the executioner! Thank you! WilesWales

    will defend Queen Anne as long as I’m around! She gave to England, Queen Elizabeth I, the greatest absolute monarch that country ever had!

    “This is the Lord’s doing; it is marvelous in our eyes.” – Psalms 118:23

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