Narrative
Following the pronouncement of her sentence, Berenice was immediately taken to the fortress, where she was undressed and made to put on the long cotton gown worn by those condemned to death.
With her hands bound behind her back, she was brought before the governor, then led to a cell where her restraints were removed.
She found the sensation of wearing a long dress—feeling the fabric sway around her body—to be quite strange.
She sat down on the narrow cot…
So, she had been caught; she had known the risks from the very beginning. Now, she only hoped that the execution would come quickly.
The very next day, the governor arrived to inform her that she would be put to death that same day. She was placed in more restrictive bonds: her hands were cuffed behind her back, and her ankles were shackled.
In the middle of the day, two female guards came to collect her and take her to the dressing room.
It was a cozy, windowless chamber, fitted with mirrors and a garment rack hung with an abundance of satin clothing.
Berenice guessed that these items were intended for her, and she blushed.
She felt a certain shame at being so heavily swathed in layers of fabric.
The guards undid their prisoner’s restraints.
“We are going to dress you.”
The condemned woman nodded silently.
Beneath the dress, they slipped on a shaping undergarment.
Then, as they removed her gown, they dressed her in a bra that cradled her breasts, silky white stockings, and ballet flats with gold buckles.
Seeing her reflection in the triptych of mirrors arranged before her, Berenice experienced a strange sensation—caught between the caress of the silky garments against her skin and the shame of such an almost grotesque accumulation of clothing. Once she had gone through all the undergarments, one of the guards presented her with a long, satiny gown and helped her put it on.
“You look quite beautiful for someone about to die, miss,”
remarked one of the guards as she handcuffed her hands behind her back.
A shiver ran through Berenice… To die—yes! She was going to die!
The other guard knocked on the door, which opened, and the young woman was led into a room where the executioner was waiting.
"Bind her," she ordered laconically, eyeing her victim, who met her gaze.
Methodically, one of the assistants removed her handcuffs and bound her wrists, then her elbows, pulling them close together.
These were not merely hastily tied knots, but ropes wound with deliberate care.
"Prepare her," the executioner commanded once more, after checking the bindings.
The condemned woman was seated on a stool, and one of the assistants set about exposing her neck by cutting away her thick, abundant hair.
When this was done, the double doors facing her swung open slowly, and Berenice saw the guillotine—standing atop a small platform in the middle of the fortress courtyard—its blade glinting in the sunlight.
She stood up, questioning the executioner with her eyes.
"Come along, young lady," the executioner agreed.
Berenice stepped forward; upon crossing the threshold, she paused briefly before moving on, urged forward by the hand of her captor against her back.
High above, on a balcony draped with a black canopy, the governor watched the execution.
Berenice covered the few meters separating her from the scaffold, unable to tear her gaze from the instrument, and stopped again at the foot of the four steps leading up to it.
Her legs trembled slightly as she climbed; once at the top, the assistants seized her, guiding her toward the plank and forcing her body flat against it. They strapped her in tightly and meticulously—across her shoulders, pelvis, and calf—then tipped the board, which slid slowly toward the open wooden collar.
This conscientious preparation felt like an eternity to the woman facing execution; she lifted her chin slightly to clear the collar, which then snapped shut with a sharp, dry clack.
The executioner made one final circuit of the guillotine to check her work, then took her position to the left of the uprights and turned toward the balcony.
The governor gave a nod, and the executioner engaged the mechanism.
At the click that released the blade, Berenice clenched her fists. The blade descended with a dull thud, striking the buffers, and the condemned woman’s head fell into the basket.