23. Heal

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But before my mouth could voice my thoughts, Sepher glides on his horse, towards the palace, and my horse soars after him, dissuading{preventing} him from parting. "Move this instant.", Sepher announces, as his steed releases a squawking huff.

"Hear me. I'm your Queen, and I'm instructing you not to tell the king. This isn't his duty nor is it yours. Trust me, please."

• Palace

"Sepher."

His eyes slightly shift in my direction, yet he does not turn his head. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Your majesty?

My mouth lets out a slight gulp, then I speak. "Get a good night's rest."

He nods his head, scurrying up the stairs. Am I that horrid? Can he not stand the ghastly sight of me any longer? My head slopes down, my body slumping to the floor. Yes, I was heartless, persistent, and power-hungry. But I don't regret it, it was for him. It may not seem that way, but it was. For his life, and his happiness. How can he not see that? Everything I do is for him ...

"Dear sister, cheating on his majesty, before the wedding."

My head pivots to my brother, as Damian sucks his teeth, a smirk emerging on his face.

"That won't do. And with a wizard, no less. Perhaps I should visit our little friend?"

"Sepher was it?", Damian continues. Causing my blood to boil, as my black veins begin to pop out. Deep down, I knew Damian was right every action has an equal and opposite reaction, and that would be my downfall. "I was wondering when you'd reach. It's been lengthy since I've butchered your queen, are you fearful of me?"

Damian chortles, his feet driving towards me, as his breath reaches my neck. "Afraid of you?", he whispers. "My plan merely had to be master, just...to...the...dot..."

Conceivably small talk will distract him, after all my brother adores talking about himself. Egotistic bastard!

Plus I have an advantage. My body heals in an instinct. I've been qualifying for this, today is the day he dies.

"Always the perfectionist."

He smiles, dashing towards the border —- a sword appears in his hand, and before my hands can strike, he plunges the sword into my stomach. A smirk emerges on my lips, plunging my body towards him, but I fall, a thick and strong liquid, flows through my fingers as they clasp through the ripped flesh. No! Why aren't I healing? Fuck! The blood rolled over my hand, the thick fluid no warmer or cooler than my skin. As my body became slower and weaker. Along with my powers, they were drifting away. I was drifting away.

To Be Continued...

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