Elder Mage Marianna told me step three years ago, under the shade of the Morwater Tree. I saw it sometimes in my dreams: my home village, there in the treetops. Before the royal soldiers came to destroy and wreak havoc on our people. When I married the prince (step one, according to Marianna), he allowed me to keep some ashes of the Morwater Tree in a small urn on my dresser, on my side of the bed. He never asked me what it meant to me or why I would want such a thing. It was my home, not this royal palace.

Marianna also told me abotu step two: murdering the king and queen. That was easier than I had expected. They were often unprotected, feeling so at ease in their kingdom. Well, they had been infiltrated. I had seduced their son, and, although they treated me like a prisoner in their keep, I wept at their funeral and acted as if I had nothing to do with the poison in their treats. The poison berries came from my forest, quite near the Morwater tree. I loved that.

Now, step three … Burn the palace. This would be harder than the other steps because of the sheer volume of destruction, both of people and land. As I carelessly lit the fires in the kitchen, though, I knew I would be running soon. I would find Marianna in the wake of the burning, flaming kingdom. My husband would be nothing but ash when I saw him again, and that made me smile.

Step One: Marry the Prince.

Step Two: Murder the King and Queen.

I wasn’t at all prepared for Step Three.

Step Three: The King and Queen weren’t Dead.

Instead, I focused on getting away with step two by throwing out the goblets full of poisoned wine just in case the investigating mage tries to oust my crime with a poison trace spell. Last night, the night I’ve spent so many nights dreaming of came true.

I poisoned my in-laws.

It happened like this. I came to their quarters with my husband in tow, insisting that we all drink together to celebrate the first week of our marriage. The King looked disinterested. However, the Queen hated to be rude and she was the key to my success. She drank half a cup while the king drank just a sip. Soon, they both yawned and went to sleep. When morning came, which was hours ago now, I heard a scream from their quarters. A maid had found the royal pairing dead. I feigned horror and grief while my husband, the prince, appeared stone-faced.

He never talked much and I was unsure that he even could. Our romance had been a strange one. I approached him one day with a flirty smile, my fingers touching a cut on his skin.

“I think I have a healing balm or a potion somewhere,” I said, reaching into my bag.

Earlier that day, my loyal dog, mischief, had a wolf lure on his snout that the prince had unknowingly touched when petting him. In the end, the prince was unprepared for a wolf attack but I had come in with my majestic cape flowing in the wind to rescue him.

He fell for me at first sight.

Okay, maybe not at first sight. It had taken me five years to capture the prince’s heart. In my defense, he is a prince, and with princesses being thrown at him for political alliances I was bottom of the barrel. A peasant woman who had no royal blood in her veins and who could only offer her undying love and devotion.

Yes, undying love and devotion that’s as fake as the ex-queen’s sincerity.

He’s unaware that I’m a fraud. A liar. Maybe, just maybe I feel a bit guilty about the role I made him play. I needed him to get close enough to his parents so I could end their oppressive reign but…a horrifying thought hits me. Now that they're finally gone the only people left to rule are me and the prince.

When I return to my bedroom, I write down a list of all the reasons I shouldn’t be queen.

Reasons I’m Not Queen Material:

1. I know nothing of politics!

2. I hate staying in one place.

3. I can only lead people to their deaths.

Number three hits me the hardest as I remember how my Initial plan got started. Once, I had two loving parents. My father was head of the King’s treasury and after a miscount, he was accused of thievery. The King set out to make an example out of my father and so he was killed along with my mother, and my younger twin brothers. All for miscounted coins.

I only escaped because I wasn’t home. I was off adventuring and foolishly writing letters that would never be read. How am I supposed to do this?

I rip up my list, throwing it on the floor as my body is wracked with guilt and sobs. Revenge. I longed for it and now, I have it but I’m not happy. I’m terrified. I’m lo-

“I know what you did,” I hear a quiet cracked voice say from behind me.

I turn, seeing the prince. My husband. His expression is grim and filled with confusion. I look at him with confusion too but my expression is mixed with awe.

“You speak?”

“Years,” he says, his voice barely audible.

The years of disuse are evident and I can tell every word he utters happens after a battle partakes in his mind.

I lean a bit closer. “What?”

“Years,” he says louder, his hands moving to rub his throat. “You could’ve waited years and you would’ve had the throne but you didn’t. You killed them.”

“I don’t know what you mean, dear.”

He moves away, walking out of the room. I prepare to be hauled off by a guard. I imagine my execution, feeling the blade’s sharpness as it hits my neck but when he walks back in he’s only carrying letters. He hands me one and I see my familiar handwriting.

“Why do you have this?”

“I would-“ he says then coughs.

I move to him, my eyes full of concern. He shifts away and I notice the blueness of his fingers. I grab his hand, concerned. Pulling it towards me, I examine it. He takes long slow breaths.

“I don’t have much time now.”

“Are you dying?” I say, upset.

“No, much worse,” he informs, taking another slow breath. “Parents made a deal. I was once sickly. I died. They-“

He falls and I catch him. I try to help balance him but it seems useless. I led him to a chair. His lips have become blue too.

“Whatever he offers, say no,” he utters, before slouching forward.

He falls to the floor again but I don’t catch him in time. I move to pick him up, using up all the strength I can but I feel devoid. Weaker than I’ve ever felt before. I flip him over, relief floods in me as I see he’s still breathing.

My mind wracks over everything that’s happened. Why did he have my letters? Does this mean he always knew who I was and that my love wasn’t as genuine as I portrayed?

“Well, hello, to the new queen,” Someone says.

My head whips in their direction and I watch as a man, I didn't recognize walks further into the room. He wears a suit the color of the ocean. I get up from the floor, standing protectively near my husband.

“Who are you?”

“I’m your step three, sweetheart.”

Step One: Marry the Prince

Step Two: Murder the King and Queen

I wasn’t at all prepared for Step Three.

“Have you lost your mind, Arnold?!”, I screamed. Arnold slowly backed away.

“I don’t really see the problem?”, Arnold reasoned. I shoved the list on his chest.

“Step Three: Invade the Kingdom of Sabel!”, I recited from memory ,”Are. You. Out. Of. Your. Mind!?” I poked him in the chest at every word.

“Seriously, I really don’t get why your so upset?”, Arnold said again. I bite my lip and stared out the window. I couldn’t and wouldn’t invade my home Kingdom. I didn’t even want to be apart of this act of treason anyway. I’m not a murder. But Arnold had threatened me, saying that if I didn’t cooperate, then he would kill my little sister, Amelia. I could let that happen.

I glanced over at Arnold. His expression gave me the feeling that he was more than ready to throw me away if I didn’t agree. I sighed.

“I’m not upset. I’ll do it”, I muttered, tucking a piece of my black hair behind my ear. Arnold gave me a grin, his red eyes gleaming.

“Excellent”, said Arnold ,”You start as a maid tomorrow”. And with that, Arnold left my small house. Just then, Amelia came walking out of her room. Her innocent ocean blue eyes radiated fear

“What we’re you and that man talking about?”, she asked nervously. I gave her a faint smile.

“Nothing Mel”, I soothed ,”Just go back to sleep”. Amelia pressed her small lips together.

“Okay, I’ll go back to bed”, she muttered. Then she opened the door and went inside. Slowly my smile faded. I leaned back against the door and sunk to the floor. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t a murder. I wasn’t a toy so Arnold could get to the Salta throne. But here I was. Why was there always a price so that we could protect those we love.

I straightened my spine and looked at the door of Amelia’s room. This was for her. I had to remember that. I stood up. Let the battle begin.

The plan was simple, although not easy.

First, she’d marry he prince of Argal.

Then she’d commit a little covert regicide and take the throne.

She wasn’t prepared for Verris to fall into a bloody civil war.

An ocean away, there was nothing she could do but hear how her people were slaughtered by the winter frost and starved of any freedoms.

She had been the princess of Verris, but as the Queen of Argal there was little she could do.

Then her people had come rushing to Argal, to their princess, on hundreds of ships.

The influx of her people flooding the capital and the kingdom at large gave her more power and sway than she had been able to carve out on her own.

Her uncle was no longer king of Verris the whispering masses told. He’d been deposed in a bloody battle between brothers.

She was the sole heir of the kingdom of Verris even as she was the Queen of Argal.

Not even all her planning could have presented such a wonderful opportunity.

Argal was a kingdom of peace, it would have taken her decades to successfully campaign for a war to claim the northern territories beyond their borders.

But Verris had no such aversion to war, especially when a passageway to the higher islands could be claimed in the north.

And as they stood on the docks to welcome her people, her eye caught on a man.

He was Verrin, with golden eyes and starlight hair. But what caught her attention was the brand displayed on his neck. It was her uncle’s seal.

Had her uncle survived the first bloody battle and sent spies?

She drew in a deep breath.

No king would stand in her way, nor his slaves.

I wasn’t supposed to fall in love, this wasn’t supposed to be step three. It was supposed to be kill the prince and rule the kingdom. Now I’m stuck at step one with no clue what to due. He can never find out my first plan, I will lose my head if he does and I’d much prefer it staying attached to my body. This is a disaster. I’m not meant to rule beside a husband, I should be the one with the power. Then stupid old love came along and shattered every plan I ever considered. A part of me never expected to even marry the prince, I wasnt from a wealthy family or anything. I guess my practice wooing men worked out. Do I leave and pretend I never found a love this powerful or do I stay and fear for my life every day. Its not like anyone else can rat me out, no one knew my plan but me. I just don’t trust myself around him, I want to spill every secret to him, its like he hasna spell over me. I have to decide what to do fast, because its only a matter of time, probably days, until he figures out the person I am within and the plans I had for him and his family. This is going to be really hard to do, but I have to do it. This is the best way.

The day after my victory was complete, I was sleeping more soundly then I had in years, when I was nudged awake by my husband.

“Pardon me, my dear,” Prince Walter said. “But there is business you need to attend to.”

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. “What? I’ve conquered the kingdom, what else is there to do?”

“Well…as you recall, you killed my parents after we got married.”

“Ah yes,” I said. “Steps one and two.”

“My parents basically ran the kingdom.”

“I assume so.”

Harold brought out a scroll and unrolled it. “Now that we - umm, YOU — are running things, there are just a few tasks to be done.”

The scroll unwrapped and slapped to the ground.

Dammit.

“Didn’t they … delegate?”

“They were very hands-on.”

I rubbed my tired eyes. “I need coffee,” I groaned.

Step 3: Live with the consequences of my actions.

There was no point in hiding the blood all over my hands, all over my nightdress. There was no mistaking how it was the same blood that now drenched the bedding of the king and queen, no way to avoid the gaze of my husband, the prince, standing in the doorway, staring at me.

It didn’t matter. My work was done, my revenge complete. Step one: marry the prince. Step two: murder the king and queen. I had known all along that there would be no step three.

I knelt before my husband, holding out the dagger, silver and red in my sticky hands.

“What are you doing?” he said.

The words I expected. The tone surprised me. He was so calm, too calm, given that I had just killed his parents.

“Finish it, my love,” I said, putting as much venom as I had left into the words. Let him hate me now, as much as I had ever made him love me. Let him hate me, and kill me, and send me to my family.

“It’s already finished.” He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. “We should get you cleaned up, before we report Mother and Father’s mysterious assassination to the people.”

“What…?” The dagger hung limply from my hands. I let it fall to the floor. The adrenaline was fading now.

The prince - the soon-to-be king - my husband stepped lightly around the spreading pool of red. He fetched a clean quilt from the armchair and came over to me, wrapping the warm fabric around my shoulders.

“Can’t have you going into shock now,” he said. “You’ve been waiting for this moment for how many years?”

“Since I was nine,” I said automatically. “Since the raids on the southern…” I looked up at him. He brushed my hair out of my eyes. “You knew?”

“I suspected.” He kissed my forehead. “I hoped. They would have never let their guard down around me. But my blushing bride? They never suspected a thing.”

“You knew I was here to kill them.”

“Why else would a girl from the southern valleys want to marry me? Your people were slaughtered on my parents’ command. And yet you willingly sat with me, spoke with me, held me. The only thing that made sense was if you were only trying to get close to me to kill my parents. And now you’ve done so. So let’s get on with it.”

He helped me to my feet, though I couldn’t fathom why. “Get on with what?”

“With the future.” He walked me towards the bathroom. “With making sure what my parents got away with never happens again. With making this kingdom the haven it ought to be.”

He really ought to have called for a servant. But he took care of everything himself - drawing my bath, disposing of the blood-covered nightdress, hiding the dagger behind a loose stone in the wall.

“As soon as you’re clean and dry, we’ll go back to bed, just in time to be awoken by the maid discovering Mother and Father,” he said, gently rubbing my hands until that awful red was gone down the drain.

My eyelids were heavy. Going back to bed sounded incredible. Impossible and incredible.

“Step one, marry the prince,” I said. “Step two, murder the king and queen.”

“Step three,” said my husband, “live happily ever after.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“Well you took care of the first two steps just fine on your own.” He squeezed my hands between his own. “I’ll take care of the third, my love, my salvation. Don’t you worry.”

“I won’t do it! I can’t! You said step three would be easier than the first two.”

“What do you mean it’s not easy? It should be a piece of cake for you. You have to remember we sent you here on a mission. This is how you prove your worth. We’re all counting on you Eleanor.”

I really wish she’d stop telling me that. It’s bad enough I have all this pressure on me, but now learning what step three entails, I can’t even function.

”I know that mother. But there has to be another way.”, I plead with her.

“Eleanor there is no other way. This is how we get our power back. They have to pay for what they took from us. You’ve gone this far, just one more step and it’s all ours. Besides, you don’t actually love that foolish prince do you?”

“No! Of course not!”, I urgently answer.

“Then I don’t see what the problem is Eleanor. The last step to gaining the covens magic again is to kill any and all living heirs to the family. Your prince has to go whether you love him or not!”

“I don’t love him ! And I don’t care if he dies.How many times do I need to tell you that?”

“Then what’s stopping you Eleanor? If you don’t love him, then why haven’t you done it already?”

I try to deflect the question by asking another, “Why does every living heir have to die in order for us to gain our magic back?”

“Because Eleanor, our magic is tied to their blood. As long as they have living humans on this earth we remain dormant. We have to break that hold by ending their bloodline. We’re one person away from it. It has to be you Eleanor to finish it.”

The fate of our coven rests in my hands. They’re looking to me to complete the mission in order to gain back the magic they once stole from us. There’s only step three to complete and we’ll have our power back. I need to end the bloodline. 

I tell my mother what she wants to hear,“Fine I’ll do it. I’ll kill him tonight. And then what happens?”

“You leave the rest to us Eleanor. Just do what you need to and we’ll be waiting at the entrance to the castle.”

So it shall be done. I’ll poison him the same way I poisoned his parents. Their subjects didn’t suspect anything then and they won’t this time either. The plan is set, my mother and the coven believe that tonight their power will return to them. Only it won’t. 

After slipping the poison to Prince Charming I never met them at the entrance. They came storming in once they heard the yelling and found the prince dead with a letter written in a language only my mother knew how to read. It read:

“Mother, before entering into this year long mission you told me “to just do what I need to do” in order to be successful. That’s exactly what was done. I did what I had to in order to gain the trust and love of this prince. I did what I had to. But now I can’t. I won’t destroy and kill their last living heir. Because she’s not born yet. I’m with child, which means their bloodline won’t end with the prince. It will only end with her. But I can feel how special she is and I love her and know she can be the key to giving us our magic back. Please do not hate me for this, but I need to run away and start a new life in hopes to one day return. I hope you’ll understand why I’m doing this. My love for this unborn child Is strong and I know you know that same feeling all too well. I promise I’ll get our magic back but for now I need to protect my baby Ophelia. Please forgive me.

         Until we meet again, 
                                          Eleanor “

Step One: Marry the Prince.

Step Two: Murder the King and Queen.

I wasn’t prepared at all for Step Three

There are three steps that I must complete to obtain absolute power. The wise woman has told me so already.

I have already consumed the potion. Dark blue, swirling with misty grey and whites and frothing over the top. Tasting like rotting frogs, mouldy river beds and grass that is long over due a cut. It smells little better, smelling of the sweet scent of rotting flesh. But I told myself that it was for a good cause, for the greater good. I pinch my nose, and I swallow the potion in one gulp, feeling it hit my innards with an icy jolt, as I try not to throw my guts up.

Only then does the wise woman give me the warning.

There are three steps that need to be completed, but no one has ever completed the third.

She tells me of Step 1 and Step 2, but Step 3 is to remain a mystery. She says I will know, the wry smile about her features makes me feel uneasy and I wonder momentarily if I have done the right thing.

But that doubt is a weak woman's game and I am no weak woman.

Step 1. Marry the Prince. That step was easy enough. It was easy enough to lure the dimwitted fool into my bed, easy enough to lure him into my chambers and seduce him. It was easy enough to ply his drink with the elixir that would see that he could not live without me. And, just like that ... the fool proposed and made me his bride.

Step 2. Murder the King and Queen. I have never been one for daggers and implements, why use such a tool when there are others more malevolent at hand? I chose, instead, a poison - undetectable to the naked eye and nothing any autopsy would pick up. Not until it was too late.

The Queen is dead they proclaimed, as she breathed her last breath on that fateful morning. How I consoled my husband and my father-in-law, all the while biding my time and watching as my plan fell into place.

The King followed not long after. A broken heart, they said, a heart that could not bear to be parted from his lover. But I knew better, his heart stopping from the poison that I had laced his drinks with, as I tended to him on those evenings as he lay weeping and grieving for his bride.

Step 3. The Unknown task. The task that I had guessed upon, perhaps to kill the prince and take the throne for myself? Or perhaps to bare his child, an inconvenience but nothing that I could not deal with.

I had not felt the tightening of my flesh, as though my body was contorting. I had not noticed the greying of my hair, or the subtle ache in my joints. Not until I returned to my chambers and looked upon the old hag staring back at me. Wrinkled skin, long, gnarled nails, hair greying and falling about her shoulders. Sunken eyes and yellowing skin as she seemed to age before my very eyes.

I raised a hand, and she too raised a hand as with a dawning horror I realised who looked back at me.

The scream that escaped my lips was not human, as I clutched at my chest, attempting to claw away the flesh of the wise old woman.

And only then did I hear the cackling of the wise woman, the woman who had sent me on this path.

"Absolute power, my dear ..." as she thrust her wooden, staff at me "... it comes with a cost, beat death, my dear child and you will know absolute power."

Now I understood why no one had completed Step 3.

Now I understand what she meant when she asked are you willing to lose everything for absolute power.

I had not thought that she would mean my own life.