“Your crown is made of people’s bones and hunger.” she gasped out. Her hands bound and her body weak from captivity.

He smirked although his green eyes lacked any real joviality as he stood in front her cell. “Is that really the best you could come up with after three days? Should I leave you in here for longer?” She chose not to dignify him with a response as she eyed him wearily, wondering if he was finally here to send her to her death.

She thought back to a few days prior. The failed coup. Just the thought of it is enough to bring tears to her eyes. That had been her one chance to overthrow the proverbial Mad Prince. Nobody would expect the Prince’s trusted advisor to orchestrate the toppling of his regime, or so she had thought. He was two steps ahead of her the whole time, quickly dispatching his royal guard and violently crushing any rebellion in sight.

The clang of the heavy iron lock roused her from her thoughts. He unlocked the cell door. The metal screech making her cringe. The sight of the Prince in his black and green finery contrasted with the dank, depressing, grayness of the dungeon. He approched her sitting form, his shadow movingly menacingly along the wall. She kept her eyes on the ground beneath her, counting the cracks in the stones. There was nothing left to say to him. No taunts, no appeals. Just dissapointed silence.

She couldn’t save the kingdom, she couldn’t keep her allies safe, and she certainly couldn’t change his ways, heavens know she tried. He was too far gone. Corrupted by his own greed.

“Get up,” he demanded, roughly lifting her when she did not comply. She balanced unsteadily on her legs, her arms straining and still bound behind her. “Is it finally execution day?” she asked half-jokingly.

He reached into his pocket, producing a small key and reached behind her to unlock her manacles. “You are not to be executed,” he stated plainly.

She stared at him in confusion, rubbing her raw wrists. “You’re letting me go?”

He tsked and looked at her with a rather patronizing expression. “I didn’t say that.”

“So what are you going to do with me?” she asked wearily.

“You will resume your duties,” he paused and added “with increased supervision of course.”

“Why?” she asked simply, her stare piercing his.

<abrupt ending because I ran out of steam! I will hopefully continue this idea in the future>

The silence that followed was almost more damning than the statement itself. Sir Niklaus Niemend, oldest member of the king’s guard stood straight backed across from his new king. He had spoken truthfully and would not back down now. Nor would he break eye contact. A man could not afford to look weak when dealing with a predator, and if the horned behemoth across from him was anything, it was certainly a predator.

“You!”, King Char the Bloodfather hissed through clenched teeth. His perfect, pearlescent white teeth shone through his blackened lips. They were a dam struggling to hold back the venom and vitriol building on the other side. A smile specifically crafted to hide the danger lurking beneath. The anger brewing in his ruby red eyes burned with the intensity of a primordial flame, “You dare?”

The demon had asked for Niklaus’s opinion, and Niklaus, always a gambling man, had taken a chance. He was hoping that Char knew better than to punish men for honesty.

“Of course I dare. You want to be the greatest ruler these people have ever had do you not? Beloved and feared in equal measure?” Niklaus waited for Char to nod before continuing. He barely received a shrug from the large demon, but pushed forward anyway, “Then it is important to know where your power comes from. It’s not their love, nor their fear. It’s the number of sick and hungry. You bear the burden of keeping them healthy and well fed. Fail that duty, and it does not matter how loved you are, how feared you are, those people will rebel. Your crown is forged from bone and burden and hunger and pain.”

“You think I fear a rebellion from those huddled, squabbling masses? I will crush them just as I crushed your meager armies!” Char spat to the side while puffing out his bare chest. His red skin caught the light from the fires burning around him and reflected it back, giving the nearly empty throne room around him an even more sinister glow. “Just as I crushed you and your pathetic band of kings guard.” He raised his hellish sword up to Niklaus’s neck. The twisted, triangular blade was longer than a man was tall, barbed and wicked, designed not just to kill but to cause suffering in those it left alive.

Niklaus ignored the blade and the smug look on Char’s face and faught off the urge to hold his wounded side. He knew it was bleeding badly, but barely felt the wound anymore. That was a bad sign. But then again, so was the blade at his throat. So he swallowed his fear and took another gamble. “True, but then you will just be the king of a pile of corpses. A rather large pile of corpses I’ll admit, but a rather sad kingdom indeed. And a terrible start to an empire if you ask me.”

It was that last morsel that finally gave the infernal conqueror pause. He lowered his sword and turned abruptly towards the throne, striding across the room where he picked up the charred corpse of King Ferdinand IV with a single meaty hand. He discarded the old ruler like trash into the wind, tossing him across the room with ease. He sat upon his new throne and turned back to Niklaus, a newfound hunger glinting within his eyes.

It was quite possibly the hardest thing Niklaus had ever done to force his face to show nothing, to remain a mask of indifference, to not twist with the insurmountable disgust swelling within him. He avoided looking at the old king or the other corpses around him. Instead, he locked eyes with the tyrant before him and continued to stand tall. He had no hope of defeating Char in battle, but maybe he could still save his people. One wounded, dying man against an otherworldly threat. Not great odds, admittedly.

“An empire? Go on.” The Bloodfather spoke with all the authority of hammer striking anvil, he left no room for questioning. This was a creature accustomed to being obeyed.

“You are, quite possibly, the greatest conquerer our people have ever faced. You didn’t just lay seige to our city, you destoyed our walls. You broke the Unbreakable City of Kas.” Niklaus was betting that Char was as vain as he was formidable, and took the budding smile on his face as the sign of a hand well played. “But can you build a better one in its place? Are you and yours more than just destoyers?”

“We,” the demon spoke after a period of contemplation, “rarely are.”

“I thought as much,” Niklaus continued. “You have an opportunity here to turn our great city into the center of your great empire. Rule the people here the right way and they’ll follow you. We are a proud people, probably too proud, and if you try to squash us into submission we’ll resist. Leave some of the old power in place though, a familiar face as your right hand man perhaps, and the people won’t feel as downtrodden. If you leave us the room to grow along side you, then you’ll have more than just a foothold in our realm. You’ll have the birthplace of The Bloodfather’s Empire. Our Unbreakable City and your Unbreakable Army.”

“My Unbreakable City,” Char said matter-of-factly. His voice somehow a mix of honey and gravel. His face a mask.

“Of course, Your Majesty, I misspoke,” Niklaus said the words as if they didn’t break his heart to speak aloud.

“You play a dangerous game,” the tyrant spoke with a sly grin upon his face, as if he finally understood the man in front of him, “You’d really gamble their lives to save your own?”

“What can I say, maybe the two of us aren’t so different.”

Char paused for what felt like an eternity to Niklaus, “Perhaps not.”

Another pause.

Another eternity.

Finally, the demon king spoke, “Fine. I will let you live, but you will help me rule this city. You will help me build an empire. If not, I will lay waste to this city and all the others. And I will make you watch while I drive your kind to extinction before ending you myself.”

And there it was, the last gamble Niklaus thought he’d ever take had paid off. He’d given his people a chance. Char the Bloodfather had it backwards, because of course he did. The idea of self sacrifice was so alien to him, it had never occurred to him that Niklaus was actually betting his life, his _soul, _to save his people.

The surrounding world may suffer, but his people would thrive, and that was a win in his books.

“I accept.”

No expensive jewels Or masses of gold Just the bones of our family And tales never told.

The link is broken And here comes the flood Water, at this stage, is thicker than blood.

Now the people run rampant Cheeks hollowed, skin pale As I watch as your crown Gleams in the hail.

A figure declares in the storm That they must be the one To rip the crown of bones away And seal what’s said and done.

You sit in your chair. With a grin and comply, And the bones of your crown Rattle just like the sky.

No expensive jewellery Or masses of gold Just a journey of vengeance It’s the best one I’ve told.

Your crown is made of the people’s bones and hunger. Your victory is composed of their losses and cries.

    If you’ve come this far by refusing to look behind you, your mind, then, is dethroned in loss. The condescending smile smeared on your countenance is deserving of condemnation from those who have acted as your slippers, lifting you inches off the ground, only to then carry you to your handmade palace. 
    Is it so acceptable, however, for you to go and lie in your canopy bed, with your face so empty and expressionless, after you tucked those slippers underneath it? In the time when you are most alone, your condescending smile should shine the brightest, and yet, your pupils quiver under your rested eyelids.
    For it is your mind that is dethroned in loss, and it is your body that acts in rejoice. No matter the fight your mind puts up, your arms will deflect it, your feet will move on. You have trampled on those beneath you; you mustn’t run away now. 
    Or else your victory will falter; even the dead will condemn you. What you can do, the only option left for you, is to continue wearing your slippers, and, continue trampling on your mind.

„Deine Krone ist aus den Knochen deiner Untertanen und deren Hunger. Das Land wurde verflucht. Der Fluss führt kein Wasser mehr und Regen ist auch schon lange keiner mehr gefallen. Und zusätzlich zu den dadurch entstandenen Ernteausfällen verlangst du horrende Abgaben. Und zusätzlich dass dein Volk hungert, hast du deinen Bruder und Berater weggesperrt, der dich von all dem abhalten würde. Du bist hier in deinem goldenen Käfig gefangen und siehst das Leid auf der Straße nicht. Nur die Beratung von Cassandra hörst du und tust, was sie dir sagt. Hör auf mich und nicht auf sie. Hole deinen Bruder zurück und lass dein Volk nicht weiter hungern. Geh da raus und schau dir an, was deine Befehle deinem Volk wirklich antun!“ Charlotte sprach aufgeregt mit Anthony. Er scherte sie nicht im geringsten, dass sie mit dem König von Cerra und ganz Cerratien sprach. Zu ihm ist sie immer direkt und sagt, was sie denkt. Er schaut sie aus großen, ungläubigen Augen an und fragt: „Und was soll ich deiner Meinung nach tun? Maximilian ist im Hinterland im Gefängnis und ihr wollt alle ernährt werden und das beste Essen auf dem Tisch haben. Wir brauchen während eurer Anwesenheit so viel von den Bauern. Gern kann sich Robert mit Naomi als eine weitere Bewährungsprobe auf den Weg zum Gefängnis machen und meinen Bruder befreien. Ich brauche ihn wahrscheinlich mehr, als ich mir bisher klar machen wollte. Daher kann er zurückkehren und mich wieder beraten. Aber ich weiß nicht, wie ich euch alles bieten kann, was ihr wollt.“ „Ich glaube wir würden uns eher mit einfachen Essen begnügen, als zuzusehen, wie die Bevölkerung verhungert. Sie sollen uns mit dem nötigsten versorgen und sich selbst versorgen können. Ich schicke Bobby und Naomi sofort los, damit sie Max zurückbringen. Danke, Eure Majestät König Anthony.“ „Wenigstens hast du nicht vergessen, mit wem du sprichst. Und nun geh und leite alles in die Wege. Ich werde meinem Volk verkünden, dass sie uns nur noch mit dem nötigsten wie Hafer und Getreide versorgen sollen und was sie wirklich abgeben können und den Rest für sich behalten können. Das sollte helfen. Und nun geh!“ Charlotte macht noch einen Knicks , dreht sich um und geht, während Anthony beschämt zurück bleibt und über seine letzten Befehle und wer sie ihm eingeflüstert hat, nachdenkt. Irgendwie kann er sich nicht mehr erinnern, warum er entschieden hat, dass Maximilian ins Gefängnis soll und warum oder dass er dem Volk das Essen weggenommen hat, um selbst in Sauß und Brauß zu leben. Wer hat ihm das eingeflüstert? War das wirklich Cassandra, wie Charlotte gesagt hat? Anthony konnte sich beim besten Willen nicht erinnern. Hat sie was mit ihm gemacht, wenn sie ihn wirklich dazu animiert hat, diese Befehle zu geben? Und wenn ja, wie hätte sie das machen können und wieso erinnert er sich daran nicht? Das war eine Aufgabe für seinen Bruder, wenn er zurück ist. Er soll herausfinden, wer ihn beeinflusst hat und wie. Aber wie kann er den Ergebnissen seines Bruders trauen?

“Sky fall” Alcee whispered under her breath. Her kingdom fought them with fire, it was only her instinct to fight back. Except, it was never as explosive as before. She recalled when she was younger. Elementary kids thinking it was amazing that she could change anything by just thinking of it happening. She was put under servanthood in fear of putting the kingdom in danger. So were many others. Alcee had enough. Being handmaiden to the princess made her want to pluck her hairs out one by one. Beautiful, intelligent, wealthy, Princess Alessia, she had everything and more. Her feet dragged along as she searched through the kingdom, searching for someone…anyone. She cried out for anyone. No one. What have I done? She thought. “Queen Alcee, wake up.” The goblin cry out, jumping on her bed. “Sylvester I order you to stop” she says, rolling over. “But Miss the fae are here!” Sylvester says excitedly. “The fae?!” Alcee shot up from her bed. “So soon?” “Yes, but it’s time get out of your chambers.” Sylvester begged. “Zeus, you’re annoying.” Alcee fixed herself up. Pinned up her thick jet black hair in a bun. Dressed her self in a silk black dress. She has changed a lot since the incident a few hundred years ago. Her hair thicken instead of thinning, eyes have changed colors, skin turned from a sickly pale to a healthy pale. Almost like power was feeding her. She stopped thinking about how when she was 5, watching the sky fall as the guards took people with like powers under servanthood. The goblin escorted her to the throne room. “Queen Alcee.” The fae said. “At your service.” She rolled her eyes. Her hands cold and stern as they shake hands. “So why must you arrive so early?” Alcee said as she sat down on her throne made out of steel and diamonds. “Why have you taken the dark fae from the land of Mediocris?” “Why do you think they wanted to be in Mediocris?” She replied. She’s always was quick witted, when talking about her own beliefs. “The dark fae was discredited and discriminated against. All were credited to a light fae. Even if it wasn’t for magic, for history, the history is distorted, academic achievements were never celebrated. Your crown is made out of people’s bones and hunger.” She could go on and on, but she didn’t. “For them to come back, change. If you can change within two rotations around the sun,they can go back” She proposed. “You got a deal.” She watched the fae king leave. “Mistress Alcee?” Sylvester whispered. “Yes?” “Why did you create this empire?” He whispered. “Well uhm” she stumbled over her words. “About 300 years ago, Auburn had human leaders, humans are creatures without powers.” She turned to face him. “They weren’t very nice. They made us become servants to the royalty. I believe I got jealous-“ “What’s jealous?” Sylvester interrupted. “Jealous is when you are bitter towards someone who has something you want.” “Oh.” He tried to make sense of the word. “Well, I snapped and accidentally killed everyone in the kingdom.” She says ignoring almost every detail. “Why did you establish this empire?” Alcee sighed. “I was hopeful, I wanted a place where creatures like us could be celebrated, and accepted.” She picks at her cuticles. “Are you still hopeful?” “Yes.” Alcee replied, without a doubt in her mind. “So, King of the Fae, King Oizys, you’ve done it, re-education was established, dark power houses were established and are making profit. Congratulations.” Alcee said in her gown. Studded in diamonds, her jet black gowned shimmered. King Oizys looked quite boring in his white suit. “Why did you give me that proposal?” He asked as they were guided to ball room. “I believe in change, I was hopeful, because things can change, that’s why I rebirth Auburn.” She snapped her fingers and the doors leading to another hallway. “Your powers are cool.” King Oizys chuckled. “Thanks, there’s a lot more. I’m half fae and half human and when that happens powers develop and can be uncontrollable. What do you control?” She asked. “I manipulate light. Hence light fae.” She snapped her fingers once more opening the door to the ball room. “Thy queen has arrived. She has an announcement.” Knight Christos announced. “Any fae can return to Mediocris at their own will. The nation has been re-educated, dark fae are profiting from their work now. If you wish to reside here Auburn may, departure for Mediocris is in two days.” Alcee stood watching everyone board the ship. She felt someone hug her from behind. “Bye Alcee.” She heard her cry. “Aella, you don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.” Alcee begged her to stay the night before. “But I have a family.” She hugged her tightly. Alcee knew she would miss her dear friend as much as her friend longed for her family. “Your family and you can visit anytime you wish. My door is always open for you.” Aella hugged her once more. “Thank you” she whispered in Alcee’s ear. “Anytime, anywhere, I’ll be there” she didn’t want to let go. Aella then boarded. It hurt Alcee’s heart to see her friend go. Hi Alcee Mediocris is great. You’re right, change is possible. Thank you. I’m not longer working for 0 coins for an hour anymore. I’m glad you demanded him to change. Thank you. My family and I can’t thank you enough. I miss you. I’ll try to come visit this autumn. Maybe we can go back to the bakery we always used to go to before I left. I recently bought myself a nice cottage, in the woods. Can’t wait to see you again. Forever and Always Aella.

The door to Shadow’s cell opened with a whoosh as she released him. Shadow Queen waited for the mist to pass before she took a step toward Shadow.

“Too slow,” he glitched until he was standing behind her, the blur of his body flashed past SQ faster than lightning. Shadow grinned ear to ear as he watched SQ pull her blades, her hair falling past her shoulders in soft golden brown curls. “This’ll be easy,” he said, being faster than light was his specialty. Shadow Queen had no chance against him.

She swung wildly with her sword, missing Shadow narrowly. He darted to and fro, a game of cat and mouse. SQ summoned her shadows as he flashed from one end of the room to the other, keeping away from his Silent Stone cell.

“Play fair, coward,” SQ stepped into the murky shadows she’d formed, tossing Shadow a blade from the wall. He caught it, and without a word, they stepped into the Silent Stone cell, their gifts snuffed out like lit ash. Both of their blades were steady and raised, anticipating the bloody fight ahead.

“All’s fair in love and war,” Shadow says, raising a brow. “But I suppose if I’m too powerful, I’ll come down to your level of weakness. Don’t expect me to go easy on you with the swords.”

Shadow Queen strikes in reply, a bloody smirk is plastered on tight, to show off her pointy teeth. Shadow dodges, rolling away from her, nearly chuckling at the attempt. “Are you even trying?” His blade meets hers, iron on iron, it grinds until they slide apart.

This time Shadow turns, his blade strikes Shadow Queen’s again, she rolls in turn as he strikes again, barely missing her hair. She snarls, finding her footing and charging on Shadow. He grunts and spins to match her speed. “I could say a cheesy line like ‘your wits are no match to my blade’,” Shadow grunts as SQ strikes his sword again. “But I think that would piss you off more, since your crown is made of the people’s bones and hunger.”

Shadow Queen laughs, it comes out deeper than a girl’s laugh should be. “I could say suffer the pain you’ve put upon yourself. But I suppose that’d be too nice. I want your head.”

Shadow looks into her eyes and sees the demon inside her. It’s something he’s never witnessed, nearly breaking his grip on his sword handle. She swings harder, Shadow rolls and catches her blade with his, 𝘴𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴 fly from their blade tips as Shadow Queen’s demon bubbles to the surface.

The muscles in her arm, that didn’t exist four minutes ago, roll as she twists the blade to match Shadow’s strikes. He slips and SQ takes the chance, pouncing on him like an animal, pulling the blade on her thigh, placing one sharpened metal dagger behind Shadow’s back and pushing one to his chest. Her teeth are inches from his fleshy neck. His first instinct is to use his abilities to jump away from her, however, the Silent Stone takes care of that ability.

SQ leans in slowly, her lips brushing his neck. “‘All’s fair in love and war’,” she repeats, her soft pink lips stretching into a grin far too wide for any human.

• ☾ •

“The Shadow Shifter is the most feared beast that she summons,” Magnum, leader of the Kairo Lava Field People, says. “It’s a Shape-Shifter, changing into any form it dreams up. If we can somehow snatch that gift away from her, we would have a greater chance at winning the war.”

“Zephyr,” Serene, female leader of the Isolde Ice Folk, whispers.

“What?” Magnum leans toward the wrinkled lady. “I dare not believe my ears that you, Leader of The People, just said a forbidden name. One that can summon evil far more than our troops can fight.”

“No,” Aisles says. “I believe I know where she’s going with this. It makes perfect sense,” the Leader of the Rainy Soren Tribe leans forward too, resting his chin on his tightened fist.

“Zephyr was the most feared demon in the galaxies. Since the time he was birthed from a black hole between our universes, the most power from a Demon God has been between Shadow Mind and Zephyr,” Serene continues, shaking her head. “Zephyr was put away years ago, the prophecies say that a great energy would summon him near, feeding on the insides of the host he chose, until it grew too strong, eventually forming and morphing into the host’s body. While Shadow Mind was sealed away somewhere permanently. Never to escape on his own will.”

“So, this means our Queen may 𝘯𝘰𝘵 be in control— or even aware— of what she’s doing,” Aisles stares in astonishment. “Or either—“

“Or either she’s trapped inside her own body, watching her very own hands slaughter innocent people,” Serene finishes. Suddenly the room of five hundred people falls silent. “If the demon hasn’t killed her yet, Zephyr will only grow stronger. As soon as he’s sure he doesn’t need 𝘰𝘶𝘳 Queen as a host, he will kill her.”

“Do you think there’s a chance of saving her?” Magnum’s voice seems too loud in the small room, people shrink for the fear of the Queen hearing him; even though they rest miles away from her castle walls.

“My opinion?” Serene pauses. “We have little time, it’s only a matter of weeks before the real queen that we know inside that body dies.”

• ☾ •

Shadow Queen licks the blood from her hands beside the cell. The doors are sealed shut once again, Shadow stands by the entrance, watching SQ finish her meal.

“I know you’re in there,” he whispers to her. “And I need you to remember who you are.”

SQ turns on him, leaning in next to the diamond glass. She snarls, her breath crystallizes on the diamond. “I don’t know who you’re talking to. And I don’t have time to figure it out.”

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 know who I’m talking to, I need 𝘺𝘰𝘶 to fight a little longer,” Shadow pushes, leaning in closer until his forehead touches the glass above her head. He peers down at her.

“Shut up,” SQ hits the glass with her fist, it indents but doesn’t crack. The thick glass-like material holds like glue.

“I saw it in your eyes. You were about to kill me, something changed in your face— in your eyes. Zephyr left, it was 𝘺𝘰𝘶, Queen. You pulled away and let me live. You fought the urge to spill my blood.”

The Queen’s eyes darted in what was nearly fear, Shadow could tell that once again, there was a small innocent girl trapped in the body that it shared with Zephyr, the most powerful demon in history. Shadow placed his palm flat on the glass, he’d never felt so much regret and sorrow before. His stomach jumped into his throat when the Queen’s hand rose… and touched his from the outside of the glass.

Then, just as quickly as it came, it vanished. The demon came back into her eyes, her face twisted into a horrible grin, snarling at Shadow, her hand dropped and she spun from the room, continuing down the corridor, and back to her throne room. Her short dagger swung around her fingers, blade first, until she put it back in the strap on her thigh.

𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, Shadow thinks to himself, pacing in the Silent Stone cell once again.

(((TBC? 20+ likes!)))

The King sits idly beside his wife, reading over a bill that had yet to be passed. The bill is written from the concern of the peasants and the sick, stating that because they have no access to the medical supplies they need for the disease going around the slums, workers are dying off and family of said workers are protesting for the goal of more medical supplies to be granted to them.

The King merely looks it over once and hands it back to his wife without a second look. When she huffs, he looks back at her. “Has something displeased you?” He asks, as if completely oblivious to his actions and to who he has made them in front of.

“Youre just going to give it a look?” She asks. “No concern over our people? No concern that because of this strike, they and us will lack the supplies we need?”

He sighs. Must be that time of the month. “Dont be so dramatic, dear. They will come to soon.”

“What a disgustingly vile King you are. Your crown must be made of the peoples bones and hunger with the way you act!”

Her husband bristles at that. “Dont act like yours is not too.”

“This crown never belonged to me first, did it!” She says and stands. “All because of this horrible arrangement orchestrated by you. If I had a say, id have happily swam in amnure than laid with you. Youre more vile than you know.”

(half finished, jus needed somethin to post)

“Your crown is made of the people’s bones and hunger. Your cloak dyed red with their blood. Your robe is nourished by their tears. Your scepter bears the names of the people you serve.” Ameru, Priestess of the Jagged Cliff, pressed the tip of her dagger into my throat. “If there is any fear or doubt in you, if your heart does not wear this mantle in openness and love, it would be better for all that you leave this place and your name never to return.” I no longer felt the tiny bite of the metal, the trickle of blood slide down the hollow of my neck. I heard the voices of my mother, Lai blend into her mother, Ina of the Free Swallows, and her mother and her mother’s mother, an unbroken magic manifest in my every cell. My voice filled the round space. “One is for my flesh and its despair shaped to shelter our people. Two is for the eyes I blight to sharpen our prophecy. And six is for the memories I surrender until we reclaim what we have lost.” Ameru’s slate eyes found mine. “How do you enter this spiral?” I had heard some hesitated here to take in every initiate that stood in their fixed nodes along the Nautilus, but I had seen its curved and coiled sigil all of my life, its pattern fixed even with my eyes closed. “I enter the Nautilus with perfect love and perfect trust.” Ameru’s hand was steady on the dagger. “Then, step forward and join us beyond the veil.”

Jacks had to remind himself why he served his queen. Despite her cruel tongue, despite the cold nothing that pooled in her eyes, despite the danger his body screamed while she was around, he knew her for who she truly was.

He watched her as she fought all twelve of her brothers, muddying the throne with blood as they fell like flies. He watched her promise, vow, that she would protect her people against the frost of war the way her knights protected her. The way he protected her.

And though no glint of that woman seemed to remain, he could only stand by her side and hope she was still there.

“Queen Evelyn of the Trade district” Lord Atticus said, tipping his bald head in a bow.

Jacks, as the queens personal knight, knew the names of every courtier, lord, and lady who came into the court. And Lord Atticus he presumed was just another lesser ranking noble looking to gain the favor of the queen.

“You may speak” Queen Evelyn said, bored.

A lyre boy who had recently gotten his nails plucked off for being to ‘nosy’ fed her fruits dipped in honey. She seemed not to care about the knights, nor lord around her.

“I wish to inform you” the Lord said careful with his words, “that do to the-eh, pandemonium that ensued during your coronation, most from the North have withdrawn their trading alliances with us for the coming four years.”

Jacks stiffened. Everyone did, say for the queen.

“So?” She drawled, leaning back on her thrown. “I’ve never liked the Northerners anyways. Too uptight, snobbish little things!”

Lord Atticus swallowed loudly. “But my queen, you see, while those of us ranking in the courts won’t see the effects for at least three winters come, the common folk will see it now. Over half of our grain and crop imports have been, well—taken!”

“So” the Queen repeated again, this time not a question. “The common folk must endure four years of struggle, for not immediately allowing me on the throne and drawing out this mess. I see this a fit punishment!”

“But my lady!” Jacks found himself saying before he could stop himself. “After the war, our people are barely surviving!”

The queen grinned an awful grin. “Is it your place to talk, knight?”

He sank back, no armor being able to protect him from her gaze. “No, my lady. It is not. But I can’t stand here and listen to the atrocities of our courts every day, while enjoying the lavish life you offer.”

The throne room grew quiet. “Then say, if you, a simple knight under my order, dare disobey me, what punishment should I see fit?”

She turned to the pale lord. “Death?”

“No!” Both Jacks, Atticus, and maybe even the lyre boy exclaimed.

“Very well” the queen said. “I’ll have pity on you for being a charming young man. But I can’t let that mouth keep running, can I? Cut it off.”

“Pardon?” Jacks was quick to exclaim.

She snapped at two guards by the door, men he had fought with and slept with in cold cells and grounds. His brothers by heart.

“Cut, his, tongue. Or, I can cut yours.”

The two guards eyes widened. The first, Promethean, couldn’t even look Jacks in the eye. The second extended his heavy arms to pin him down.

“You can’t do this!” Jacks yelled, fighting against the strong arms. “We are suppose to be the noble ones!”

“Oh just cut it off already!”

The guard holding him down, Hankfer, took out a hunting knife. Promethean might have wretched.

“Your crown!” Jacks struggled against the grip of the soldier, “is made of the peoples bones and hunger!”

The guard kicked a shoe to his back.

“Yes” Queen Evelyn said. And for once, he saw a woman he never knew. “And yet, you helped me get it.”

That night a scream so bloody gruesome tore through the palace, it’s said to still echo till this day.