Once upon a time there was a land that retained an executioner.

It was an elected position. The person was always known to the public, never wore a mask, and had final say over who was to die or be exiled.

Executions were rare and exiles uncommon. The probing questions posed, and the answers given, if any, were always transcribed and put on public display. Below the transcription were analytical comments. All citizens were invited to comment.

They had about ten executions a year on average. The executioner, who was popular as any rock star of later days, offered all those condemned to death a variety of lethal exits, from a never-wake-up sleep potion to head-chopping to defenestration for the more theatrical. An accomplished chef, the executioner lavished expense and attention on the last meal, and a favorite request was “surprise me.” Legend has it that he created the first Chef’s Surprise, and the diner died smiling hours before his execution was scheduled to take place.

One fateful day an attempt was made on the King’s life. The suspect was the executioner’s own mother. The trial took but two days, the old woman offering no defense nor explanation except “I felt it was in our best interest to dethrone the King.”

After a brief interview with his mother, the executioner announced that her death by guillotine would take place at dawn the next day, and he would ask the King himself to pull the lever to release the blade. “I am able to delegate the task, but am ethically constrained not to do it myself.”

Near dawn, the lady was offered last words. She shook her head and went to her knees, positioning her neck so that her throat rested gently on the slot guiding the blade.

The King burst into tears.

“By Royal decree,” said the King, “I spare this woman’s life. I offer my own life instead. My only stipulation is that she keep her silence as to why she tried to kill me.”

Soon the King assumed the position. But the executioner did not pull the lever, instead nodding to his mother, who solemnly stepped up and ended the King’s life.

What happened afterward is another story.