Chapter 814

Henry rambled, "None of this is what I wanted! If I could choose again, I would never have pursued Eleanor. My family, though in decline, was still a marquis's family. The foundation was there—how bad could it possibly get?

"I came from a scholarly background. I could have taken the national examinations. There wasn't just one path before me. How could I have been so foolish? I was truly foolish! I had such a bright future. I could have married a virtuous woman, taken a couple of concubines, and had three or four sons and a few daughters. The marriage would have strengthened my family. Instead, I thought I was taking a shortcut, but it was a dead end."

The cutlery clattered to the floor as his shoulders shook with sobs. Peter picked it up. "Dwelling on the past is pointless. Action matters now. You can still share what you know. There's still a chance to turn things around. If you keep silent, you're sealing your fate."

Henry covered his face and cried before lowering his hands, wiping away tears and snot with his sleeve. His movements, slow and clumsy after enduring torture, were hunched. "No matter what, it's still a dead end. There's no way out."

Peter, having seen many villains regret their choices at death's door, knew they'd confess anything for survival. Henry, though not a great villain, possessed a startling clarity of mind. Even now, facing execution, he weighed the pros and cons. With his intelligence and calm demeanor, how could he have fallen prey to Eleanor's manipulation?

Ultimately, it came down to greed. At first, he may have resisted. Then, he was half-heartedly drawn in. Eventually, he found himself fully involved, pulling strings from behind. He believed Eleanor was the mastermind, thinking playing the victim would shield him from blame. But he was wrong.

Peter waited in silence. Eventually, Henry stopped crying and lifted his head. "If my head is cut off, will I die instantly?"

Peter replied dismissively, "I've never had my head chopped off, so I can't say for sure. But I've heard from the coroner that when the head is separated from the body, there's a brief moment of awareness—like realizing your head has been cut off. Of course, I haven't experienced it, so who knows if it's true?"

"How terrifying!" Henry stared at Peter, trembling uncontrollably.

"It is frightening, especially with so many people watching."

Henry broke down again. "How did I end up like this? It's all Eleanor's fault! She ruined me!"

"It's your own doing," Peter said, stepping outside as it neared execution time.

Chapter 814 +25 BONUS

Soon, bailiffs from the Supreme Court arrived to drag Henry away. Unable to stand, his body lacked even the slightest strength.

Rafael and Carissa rode ahead, the prisoner cart following. A crowd gathered to jeer and curse, though no one threw anything.

Henry's hair fell over his face, his authority vanished. He resembled a stray dog, desperately scanning the crowd for a glimpse of family. Any sight would ease the terror. But he saw no one—not even a servant.

A chilling thought struck him: would anyone claim his body? Would the Kingsley family collect his remains? If not, the Supreme Court would toss his corpse into a common grave. He, the son of a marquis, a scholar, once a prince consort, wouldn't even have a proper coffin.

The high sun bore down. As noon approached, so did his execution, intensifying his fear.