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careful with his words, “that do to the-eh, pandemonium that ensued during your coronation, most from the North have withdrawn their trading alliances with us for the coming four years.”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