You have, through your own weakness, become an abomination. You cannot appeal the judgment of the king your father that you cannot be allowed to live. You bow your head, exposing your neck for the killing blow. You take comfort in the fact that you have killed the monster who raped and transformed you, and that you will not be leaving the world with that bit of business left for someone else. You make your peace with the gods of death, who you will soon be meeting.
And nothing happens. Your neck does not feel the keen bite of your father's sword. You open your eyes, and tentatively look around. You see something you never, ever expected to see, and in a way it is the most horrible moment of this horrible day.
Your father is weeping.