A queen is supposed to be merciful. She sat tall in her throne, poised, and a regal smile spread across her lips, but in this world, being queen means blood. The polished surface of the throne reflected not just her image but the weight of her lineage—the lives sacrificed and the power gained through generations steeped in unrelenting ambition.

Silken banners hung from the stone walls, colors vibrant against the cold gray, symbolizing the strength of her realm. Yet, beneath the grandeur of her hall, the air crackled with tension, whispers of dissent curling like smoke around the flickering candlelight. The nobles, gathered in hushed clusters, exchanged nervous glances, aware that today would not be an ordinary court session.

“Bring forth the accused!” she commanded, her voice resonating with authority. The words filled the chamber, and the doors swung open to reveal a group of prisoners—shackled and disheveled, faces grimy yet fierce. They were commoners, once invisible, now thrust into the glaring light of her judgment.

They had come to her not as subjects but as rebels, their voices raised against the throne she had inherited. The tales of their suffering, of hunger and oppression, reached her ears despite the cocoon of luxury that surrounded her. Yet, compassion was not something bred in the palace; it was a dangerous sentiment in a world where loyalty was bought with fear.

The first to step forward was a woman, her dark hair tangled and wild. “Your Majesty, we do not seek your mercy, but justice! We bleed for our families, our children. Your lavish feasts mock our struggle!”

A flicker of anger ignited within the queen, but she suppressed it. This was not about her—this was about the burden she carried. Each head that bowed before her represented countless others who dared not speak out, who suffered in silence.

“Justice? Justice is not my realm to wield,” she replied, her tone teetering between calm and exasperation. “I seek to maintain order in this kingdom, a balance that ensures our survival.”

But the queen could see it in their defiant eyes—the hunger for change coursed through them like wildfire. Each accusation felt like a dagger, forcing her to confront the truth she had buried deep.

As the murmurs of rebellion swelled in the hall, she sensed the tide turning. Whispers of her past flooded her mind—of her own childhood, where laughter intertwined with the cries of the needy were commonplace. Had her merciless ascent to power come at the cost of her own humanity?

Steeling herself, she took a breath, her heart pounding. “Who am I, if not the champion of my people?” she murmured, almost to herself. The answer was unsettling. A queen, perhaps, who had strayed too far from the path of righteousness.

“Then let us speak of mercy,” she finally declared, the words heavy with complexity. She could feel the weight of countless eyes upon her, watching as she pivoted from the expected course. “Let us forge a pact, a way to bridge this chasm between us. No more bloodshed, no more suffering.”

A gasp rippled through the assembly. The nobles shifted uneasily; they had anticipated a swift condemnation, a show of strength that would stamp out dissent. Instead, her words extended a lifeline—a gamble that could either unify her kingdom or plunge it into chaos.

The woman stepped closer, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “And what would that mean for us, Your Majesty? Will you truly listen, or is this merely another ploy to silence discontent?”

The queen hesitated, knowing full well the stakes. Every choice painted her into a corner, each decision binding her to an uncertain future. But she felt the pulse of the room, the yearning for change that echoed even through her controlled facade.

“Listen,” the queen replied, her voice steady, “to understand the plight of those I rule. I will hear your grievances and seek to remedy them, not with judgment but with collaboration. Together, we will build a kingdom that does not thrive on fear but on trust.”

The crowd was silent, weighed down by the enormity of her declaration. Hope flickered in the darkest corners, but doubt lingered. Could a queen truly abandon her mantle of power for the betterment of her people?

In that moment, the queen made her choice. To embrace mercy was to redefine herself, to risk everything she had ever known for the promise of a better realm.

As she surveyed her people, she felt the chains of tradition loosening. The journey ahead would not be easy, but perhaps, with each step toward empathy and understanding, she could discover the true meaning of her crown.

And so, the queen sat tall in her throne, ready to pave a new path—one where blood could be shed not for tyranny but for unity, where her reign would be marked not by fear, but by a shared hope for a brighter future.

She looked down at the subjects in her court; the slight shifting of her eyes was the signal for her henchmen to bar the doors. Her subjects screamed, clamored, to get to any exit, but there was no longer one open.

“I’ve been waiting for this for a long, long time,” she shouted over the din. “I will bathe in the blood of you, my subjects!”

That was the signal for the henchmen to draw their swords and begin the slaughter. Hundreds fell in minutes. The Queen watched as the blood splattered the floor little bits at a time. The room started to fill with it, and before long, when no one else moved in the room besides her guards, she stepped from her throne into the ankle-high flood.

“Thank you,” she said to them. That was their signal to end their own lives. The blood rose again slightly.

She laid down, thinking of her days as a child in the nearby forests, floating without a care in the waters. She only wished these waters were deeper.

After my midnight stroll in the gardens with Ad, the mysterious man I’d met at the ball, I returned to my guest room at the palace of Gathe. As I opened the door I was greeted by Beatrice, my lady-in-waiting. She sat in the tastefully decorated room utop my bed with a plate of biscuits and tea in front of her.

“I saw you sneaking off with quite a handsome man earlier, and assumed it was a story worthy of tea. Now, sit down and tell me _everything.” _I grinned. Beatrice was my closest friend, we shared all our secrets. Or, at least the ones I could share. There where some things only my royal family knew.

“Well,” I started as I sat beside her and picked up a steaming tea cup. “I was in the far corner of the ball room, away from everyone, when he came up beside me.” I told her everything. From our conversations to the look he had in his eyes. Oh, and the rose. I was still giddy from our goodbye.

Beatrice smiled. She looked good when she did. Her eyes warmed and crinkled at the sides, complementing her dark hair. It was the face many men and women had fallen for over the years. “It sounds like you really like this man.”

I blushed. “I barely know him, Bea.” I suddenly became very interested in the biscuit I was nibbling on.

She shook her head. “You don’t need to know someone in your mind for you to know them in your soul. Plus, it sounds like he really likes you too.”

I sighed. Maybe she was right, but my emotions where to frenzied right now to think much of anything. I was also exhausted from the ball, socializing was hard. “I think I’m going to get some sleep.”

She nodded. “Me too. I’ll see you in the morning!” She picked up the empty tray of biscuits and tea and walked out.

I kept replaying my evening with Ad over and over as I readied for bed. I still wondered who he could be. One suspicion I had was that he was the King Adrien, but that couldn’t be true, could it? The King would have been busy with political and courting matters, not running off into the gardens with a lowly Princess of Milsglade. The kind eyes and handsome, boyish looks of Ad couldn’t be that of a King. I ruled that suspicion out. No, Ad wasn’t the King, only a Lord or even Prince of some far off kingdom.

It didn’t take much for me to fall asleep, because as soon as my head hit the soft, downy pillow, I drifted off into the land of dreams.

——————

The Ball was only the beginning of a week of celebrations and Games. Each day was a different Game, a new opportunity for kingdoms to prove their superiority over others. Today was dragon riding, and I was beyond excited. Milsglade, as the northern most kingdom, housed an abundance of dragons. I had grow up learning to care for and ride them. I was the best in my kingdom, and ready for the challenge of testing myself against others.

I dressed in riding leathers of my kingdom. They were soft leather trousers, matching gloves, and a ice blue tunic, down with beautiful embroidery. Usually it was all covered with thick layers of wool, but Gathe was a warm kingdom, so I had skipped out on that part. I pulled on my boots and opened the door. Outside, sitting on the ground, was a letter. I opened it curiously.

Dear Ismae,

Meet me in the stables before the Games. I’d like to see you again.

Your newest friend, Ad.

I couldn’t believe it. Ad wanted to see me again, so soon! I knew that he had said we’d meet again, but this almost didn’t feel real. And he had addressed me as his friend! Part of me took that as a win, but the other part of me was slightly saddend. Did Ad only want to be friends? We had just met, I rememinded myself. I was overthinking it anyways.

I hurried outside to the stables I had seen when I first arrived in Gathe. As I walked in, I took in my surroundings. Carved stone walls with large windows letting in the morning light. Oh, and the dragons. They where magnificent. Some with scales, some feathers, some both. They ranged in color from the deepest purple to blues so pure they were almost white. A few even had horns! I walked over to an ice blue dragon with feathered wings but scaly body, and horns curling over his ears.

“Hey there pretty boy. What’s your name?” I read the plaque on his pen. “Kilieus. Do you want a snack?” I took a few twidner berries from my tunic pocket and offered them to him. I always carried a few dragon treats on my riding clothes at all times. He looked at me with big, golden eyes. Sniffing my hand for a moment, then he quickly devoured the berries.

He looked up at me, eyes pleading for more. I laughed. “Sorry, that’s all I have on me.”

“You have a pretty laugh.” I heard a voice whisper from the other side of the stable. I turned quickly. Ad.

“And you certainly have a knack for sneaking up on me. What’s this, the second time?” I tried to act normal, but I was really frenzied inside. He thinks I have a pretty laugh, I thought over and over. He likes my laugh.

“I suppose it is.” He walked over to where i stood petting Kilieus. “You like dragons?” He asked.

“Very much. Their just such fascinating, beautiful creatures.” I said with wonder.

Ad smiled. “They are.” He began stroking Kilieus also, which the dragon didn’t seem to mind. We settled into a peaceful scilence. However my heart’s beating was anything but peaceful.

His hand slowly began to move upwards, towards where I was petting Kilieus on his neck. Me breath caught as I watched, then felt, his warm hand brush across mine. It’s deep bronze color was a stark, yet wonderful, contrast to my pale own. I looked up at him, only to find him staring down at me. We stayed like that for what felt like eternity, just looking into each others eyes. Oh, his eyes. Dark pools so deep I could dive into them, swim for eternity, and still never find the bottom. They held so much warmth, kindness, and a bit of sadness that made my heart ached. His gaze drifted down to my lips….

As horn blew in the distance, startling us both. He quickly removed his hand from where it still rested on mine. “We should, um, be getting to the Games. They-they’re staring soon.”

I nodded, but disappointment filled me. What had just happened between us? But I also secretly smiled at how flustered he seemed now, with his hand behind his flushed neck and stuttered words. “Yes, I suppose we should. I’ll see you out there?”

He nodded, then quickly walked away towards another section of the stables.

—————

Wind billowed though my hair as I sat astride Kilieus a mountain ledge. All around me where the royals of all the kingdoms astride their mounts of choice. To my right was Ad, astride a burnt orange, feathered mount with small golden horns and piercing eyes of the same color.

He looked over at me, and smiled. “Good luck, Ismae.” He said it just loud enough for me, and only me, to hear.

“Good luck, Ad. You’re going to need it.” I ginned at him.

He chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

An older man, who I assumed was the dragon keeper —based on his scaled and feathered attire, along with facial scarring— blew a horn. “Majesties, your attention, if you would.” Anyone who wasn’t already looking now did. “The first Game is about to commence. Now, the course begins with a drop off this ledge. You will dive as far as your skills and mount allow, followed by a fast climb back up in altitude. You will then navigate the narrow walls of the trench, and finally glide as quickly as possible back here. The champion will be chosen not only on the fastest back, but the best performance. Good luck to you all.”

He blew the horn once. I tightened my grip on Kilieus reins, checking my position.

He blew the horn a second time. I steeled my gaze.

He blew the horn a third time, sending us off.

The sound of a hundred wings filled the air as dragons dived down, down, down off the ledge. I could tell Kilieus was a skilled, brave mount, so I had confidence in what we could to together. We fell further and further, as mounts around us banked up with their riders. But we kept on plundging lower and lower, as the scenery whooshed by us. I looked to my right, where Ad still fell with his mount. We where the only two still falling, but I was determined to be last. The treeline came closer and closer to us, and Ad finally banked upwards. Just as Kilieus talons where sure to brush the trees, I yanked upwards on the reins and we were off again, gaining seed and altitude as Kilieus flapped harder and harder.

We had already caught up with the others, yet I urged my mount faster. I felt his strong body flap beneath me as he flew on. We entered the trench, which was a narrow pass of jagged mountain walls. Now we where in the middle of the group, and Ad was just on my tail. We swerved between rocks, turning almost completely vertical at some points. Yet we continued to gain speed, dodging around other riders and mounts. We had now reached the front of the group, where passing them would be much harder due to the skill of our opponents.

We exited the trench and began on the final stage of the course, the race back to start. I could see the ledge we started on just in the distance, getting closer by the second. There where now only two left to pass, not counting Ad, who was still hot on our tail. With more power we passed the first, then second pair of rider and mount. Now our only competitor was Ad, who had now come up beside me. He’d, be hard to lose, but I was determined, along with Kilieus, to win. I urged him even faster, promising twidner berries if we won. With one final burst of speed, we left Ad and his mouth behind before landing on the ledge only seconds later, kicking up dust in our wake. Ad quickly followed.

I dismounted as pride and joy filled me, for I, along with Kilieus, had surely just one the first Game. I praised my mount for his outstanding preformece.

“Well I guess I should have listened. Maybe I did need that luck after all.” Ad walked up to me, leading his mount behind him. “You did good, stranger.”

“You too, _stranger” _I responded, mocking his new nickname for me.

He laughed. “I know Kilieus is a very skilled dragon, but I’ve never seen one go so fast. How’d you do it?”

Kilieus huffed as if to say _raw talent, idiot. _“I promised him twidner berries after.” Now Kilieus huffed as if to say and I better get them.

“That’ll do it for a dragon.”

The horn blew once more, scilencing our conversation. The dragon keeper began to speak. “Before I announce this year’s champion of the first Game, I’d like to give you a little history…”

Ad leaned over and whispered, “All this man does is talk. Blah blah blah ‘my great grandfather’ blah blah blah ‘the dragons love me’.”

I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Ad grinned at me.

Finally, the dragon keeper finished his speech. “Now, for this year’s champion. I spectated the Game myself, and am pleased to name Princess Ismae Liefde of Milsglade this years dragon race champion!”

I broke into a huge smile as my pride, joy, and overall happiness swelled. I may have even taken a small bow. The only sad part was the clapping. It was polite, exactly as you would expect, but I didn’t have any family cheering for my besides Bea, who was somewhere in the far audience. Ad must’ve realized this, because he suddenly began cheering loudly. I smiled at him.

——————

That night, over tea, I told Bea everything. From the letter all the way up to his cheering, I told her all of it. She squealed with delight most of the time.

“Oh my gods oh my gods oh my gods!” She chanted loudly.

I shushed her. “You’ll wake the whole castle if you keep doing that.” But I was grinning anyway.

She lowered her voice, but only slightly. “He was going to kiss you!”

“I- kiss me? Wherever did you get that idea from?” There were a lot of tender moments, but definitely no kissing.

“Do you seriously not know? He looked down at your _lips” _Bea looked at me expectantly.

I still gave her a puzzled look. I had no idea what she was talking about.

“Have you never read a romance novel? He wanted to kiss you, hence he looked down at your lips!” I really hadn’t, romance novels where more of Bea’s department. I was more into adventure and poetry.

My heart skipped many beats. Kiss me? Had Ad really wanted to kiss me?

I must’ve looked stunned, because Bea started packing up the tea and biscuits. “I’ll let you sleep on this new revelation. Good night!” She said pleasantly, then walked out.

I think I mumbled something along the lines of ‘good night’ but I really had no idea. Already in my night clothes, I slid under the covers and closed my eyes. But I couldn’t get that word out of my head. _Kiss. _When I finally drifted off to sleep, I dreamt of kisses given by a certain man.

————————-

Wow, this one’s like 2,400 something words, so if you read it all, thanks. I really hoped you enjoyed reading as much as I have writing. Keep a lookout for part 3, and if any of you have ideas for more Games, I’d love to hear them because I’m pretty stumped. (Sword fighting is already a thing, but that’s all. The Games will end with another Ball.) ❤️❤️❤️

When Queen Lina married King Zael, he wasn’t a king yet and she wasn’t a queen. He was a wealthy prince and she had a wealthy family. They were perfect.

At least to him.

Unbeknownst to him, anger and vengeance coursed through her veins.

There are moments in life that define what path you go down. You look back and think ‘if that went differently, I may have turned out differently.’ For her, that moment occurred that night. When her child disappeared, stolen from her.

Of course her baby was a Miracle. No matter the healing abilities, her child was a miracle. And hers swiped away from her. Robbed from seeing them grow up. Never get to raise them. Nothing.

When she met Zael, she couldn’t have cared less about his status. It was what came with that title.

What she yearned for was power. He just happened to her pathway to that. She would need power for what she had in store.

She would get her child back. Everything would be made right. Even if she had to kill for it. They would all pay.

“A Queen is supposed to be merciful.” She learned that in princess classes. They are supposed to be regal and poised. With a smile spreading across her lips, she listened and planned.

She nodded and agreed while silently thinking, “But in this world, being Queen means blood.”

“A Princess is supposed to be merciful.” Dae sat tall in her throne, poised and regal. A smile spread across her lips. “But in this world, being Princess means blood.”

As she concluded her speech, a cheer went up among the people. My people. And now her people.

My father, the King, approached her, carrying a crown. A crown of thorns and diamonds, steel and flowers, that would seal her fate forever. For a single second, I wondered if she would ever regret this. Ever look back and pin this moment as her downfall.

But then her eyes locked on mine, and I saw her determination in every feature. Her smile faded from her mouth, replaced by a spark in her dark ocean blue eyes. The corner of her mouth tilted up in a tiny but powerful smirk. God, I loved that smirk.

She stood from her throne, as elegant as any Queen. To think she was ever not royalty seemed absurd. She walked to my father, her heels clicking with every step.

When she reached him, she bowed, and he nodded his head in return. After tonight, she would never bow to anyone ever again.

“Do you, Daelyn Stylar, swear to serve our people, to protect them from harm, and to honor our traditions and history?” Our people had never been much for eloquence and pretty words, so that was the only fancy speech part of her coronation. Her Trials on the other hand…

As she stood in front of my father, her eyes found mine once again. Her expression was of complete devotion, trust, and loyalty. “I do,” she said, hey eyes never leaving mine.

Okay I’m changing the title to something that actually makes sense with my story: Princess of Shadows.

“A Queen is supposed to be merciful.” The golden knight said to dark queen sitting tall on the throne. “Ha!” The Queen scoffed. “In this world, being Queen means blood.” A smile spread across her lips. “Vega. Please listen to me.” The knight pleaded. “We’re friends, and as your friend I’m asking you do not do this.”

“This is way you never bacame a Queen. You were always to worried about the others around you when you could have worried about yourself and gotten rewarded. But now you’re going to suffer.” The knight stood tall, unfazed by Vega’s words. “You will never be the true Queen Vega. Not as long as I live.” The knight declared.

“I’ll guve you one last chance Aliza. Surrender now.” Vega softened for a sigle moment. “Please.” She whispered her eyes pleading. “You are not who I thought you were Vega. The power that you seek wont come to you this way. I will never join a tyrant.” Aliza said boldly.

Vega tilted her head to the guards surrounding the throne room, and flicked it towards Aliza. “I’m sorry it must be this way.” Vega said as the guards grabbed Aliza by the arms and dragged her away. “It didn’t have to be.” Aliza said with one last look if hope. The door closed with a loud bang.

Once Aliza was taken far enough away from the throne room, she jumped upward, surprising the guards that held her hostage. They loosened their grip for just a second. That was all she needed. Aliza raced out of the palice as fast as she could. Vega would search for her, and Aliza knew it. She was only saddened that she couldnt save her friend.

Vega sat on her throne filled with pride. “Know that she is delt with, I can begin.” Aliza’s last words rung through her head. ‘It didn’t have to be’

“In this world, being Queen means blood. You cant be afraid to shed it.” Vega told herself. Aliza wasnt with her so she was the enemy. A fallen star.

"A Queen is supposed to be merciful." She sat tall in her throne, poised and regal. A smile spread across her lips. "But in this world, being Queen means blood."

The two guards to either side of her throne looked frightened. Deep shadow curled up the walls behind them. The Queen stayed seated on her throne, as if waiting for someone.

Just then, a couple guards stumbled into the room with crumpled men still in their kingly gowns.

"Oh good. You're back with my friends." The Queen's smile became sinister.

"Yes, my Queen. They're all yours now." The guards stepped to the side.

"You won't get away with this Mesrida." One of the kings snarled.

Mesrida casually strode from her throne over to him. She bent down and lifted his head with a finger. "Just watch me." She sneered, dropping his head.

She stood back straight and took a few steps back. When she was far enough, Mesrida lifted her hand and pointed at the king she was just with. The shadow along the walls shot forward and went right through the man. He gasped for air, but soon fell, dead.

Mesrida smirked as the others cowered away. "Don't you three worry. I won't kill you. I'll simply drive you mad. Guards?"

The five surrounding guards stepped forward and grabbed them. They hauled them up and away down the dark dungeon stairs.

"Good luck boys." Mesrida waved as they disappeared down the stairs

The rip of flesh beneath her swords. The sound of the crimson dripping. The shining of a sharpened blade. 1.) Hurt them before they hurt you.

Grasp in the darkness. Fight what you can’t see. Stabbing endlessly, blindly. 2.) Make use of your senses.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“A Queen is supposed to be merciful.” She sat tall in her throne, poised and regal. A smile spread across her lips. “But in this world, being Queen means blood.”

She sits on her throne of bone. Wrapped in hate and anger… She’s been wounded plenty. She stands apart from the others- because she stood.

“And if blood is what a Queen is after,” her black taloned hands curl around the skull armrests, “I’d be the one to have it.”

Blades raised, battle cries echo. Spilled blood, aching wounds. Cross her and-

“Cross me,” she stands, pacing, “I’ll go for your jugular vein. Rip out your throat and chew on its continents. Lick my fingers and swallow crimson. I’ll listen to you plead with blurry eyes… raise my blade and bring it down on your head, watch it roll across my polished floors- how pitiful you’d look…”

She would never hesitate. Cross her and she’ll haunt you. Your dreams are no longer yours. She’s a monster, a twisted bitch.

“Because I-“ she sits on her dripping throne, flames lick up the sides, her black dress pulled back to show her pale thigh, a blade strapped on tight, a dagger wedged close. “-am Shadow Queen.”

A million voices cackle with her- The Underworld shakes. Her golden brown hair is pulled into a messy bun with her twin blades. They drip crimson down her neck, her lips painted red with the liquid, her victims lay in piles around her, drained.

“Who am I?” She roars, slamming her staff onto the black ash. It ignites, crawling up the sides- the flames roaring into the black diamond on top.

“Shadow Queen,” hiss the shadows.

I couldn’t watch The dreadful clock Click… Click… Click… My life has a time limit, and I’m afraid I’ve little left. I’m stuck in iron clasps and a jail of hopelessness. I didn’t meet the demands, and now I must pay the price with my life. The moans and cries of the imprisoned match the ones screaming in my mind. Who will remember me once I am gone? I lived in a shack and went on with my duties of a farmer. My parents have long left me and I have no siblings. I never had the chance to fall in love. And in this cruel, cold kingdom, no one ties friendships. I am alone…utterly alone. Alone I will die. Unknown I will leave.

“Come on farmer! The Queen wants you.” The guard picks me up, forcing me to my awaiting death. At the clank of my chained feet, my time ticks. Clank… Clank… Clank…

The Queen sits on her throne with a cruel, murderous smile. Her blood-red nails click on her iron throne. Her silvery voice chills my bones, “Farmer, as a member of my kingdom you were to pay the tithe. But you failed. You were warned, and you refused to pay. Now, here, you will pay your debt with your worthless life.” Worthless. Worth…less. That’s all I was. All I am. I see the sword beside her throne. My time is thin. I force my lips to plea, if only she may be merciful to a worthless farmer. My voice is quiet as I speak, “A Queen is supposed to be merciful.” She sits tall on her throne, poised and regal. She smiles as poisoned words leave her merciless lips, “But in this world, being Queen means blood,” she grabs her sword and steps down before me, “and yours must be spilled.” With a finally clink, my time has ceased.

“A Queen is supposed to be merciful.” She sat tall in her throne, poised and regal. A smile spread across her lips. “But in this world, being Queen means blood.”

“No!” The man called as the guards dragged him away. “No! Your majesty, please!”

“You have betrayed me.” The Queen said, her unblinking eyes placed upon him. “I have have no further use for you. In one hour you will be slaughtered, by me!”

A gasp escape the mouths of the watching crowd, the Queen never did the executions herself.

“If being Queen means blood, then who am I if not to be the one who draws that blood?” She explained, “Guards, take him to the dungeon and then find me my sword.” One of the guards opened their mouths to speak but she cut in first. “Not that sword you fool!” She pointed at a sword leaning against her throne. “He deserves my special sword.”

The guards nodded and then began to drag the prisoner away again.

“Wait!” The prisoner cried, “I have information!”

The noise stopped and the guards stood still. The Queen grabbed the handle of the sword lying at her side and walked slowly towards the prisoner.

“What do you mean by ‘information’?” She hissed.

“I will tell you if you let me go free.” He said slyly.

“Fine.” She agreed, “What information do you have?”

“King Silas, he knows your battle plan.” The Queen eyes widen, “He knows when you’re going to attack, who is going to attack, what you will use to attack, where you will attack. And he knows every nook and cranny of your defence system. He might already be changing his defence system so you can’t attack, or getting together an army, he might already be here.”

“That information has been useful.” The Queen said, choosing her words carefully. “But it is as I said, being Queen means blood.”

She rose her sword, enjoying the terror in his eyes.

“No! We had a deal!” He screamed.

“And that deal is nothing to me now.” She said sternly.

She sliced down with her sword, blood spattered over the her and the guards. She turned to the watching crowd and spoke.

“Queen means blood!”