The Future Queen

The guard

//guards pov//

I have been stuck in this so-called castle since noon. The decorations are so bright and tacky, seemingly chosen only to broadcast wealth. it's making my head hurt. How could something that was so recently covered in blood be so shiny?

~~~~~~~~~~~noon~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They had lined five of us up, the five named by the head of guards, and made us stand to attention.
The king had sat on the throne while his puppet prowled up and down the line, asking mind-numbing questions on our rank, whether we were fae and if we had talents. Everyones answers were near the same, common fae, no talents. We were different only in rank.
"BORING." The king had slammed his fist on his throne and shouted.
"My apologies, your majesty."
Anything that was at all predatory in the puppet's prowl vanished, and it turned more into a meek, unsure wobble.

"Uhm, how do you propose we decide your majesty? A fight?"
"A plain old fight is boring too." the king clenched and uncleched his fist.
The puppet visibly swallowed.

I've heard stories about him making guards fight to the death for entertainment.
"To the death? your majesty."
How predictable.
There's no need for that.

"I apologise for my interruption, but i can assure you, whatever you make the other guards do. I will beat them. There is nothing that i won't win."
I know these guards. I know where they leave themselves open in combat and which legs they favour to lead a strike. It would be unfair for me to fight them. I have no interest in killing any of them.
"That is no way to sp-"
The king held up a finger to silence the puppet. It amuses me how obedient he is. I would punch anyone who would even think of doing that to me.

"I commend your bravery. What is your name?"
I had said it not long ago, but that was obviously not worth a "kingly" attention.
"Ryker."
He sat back in his chair and looked at me down his nose.
"Everyone out except you and you." he pointed at me, and the guard stood furthest to my left. Timothy, if i remember correctly, one of the younger guards. Good for his age but bad for the level he is stationed.
The others went, as fast as their legs could take them.
As soon as the door closed, the king leaned forwards in his seat.
"Fight."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had been shown to my rooms (after the king had made his decision) where i had changed into my new guards uniform: a black stiff fabric with gold embroidery on the collar and the kings emblem sewn above my heart. Two swords crossed over an outline of the castle. It scratches my neck as a walk, but each scratch reminds me of how far i have come and how privileged i am to be here.

No sooner had I attached my sword to my side than i had been escorted to the throne room once again. So here I sat. Waiting. For the princess, I assume. I wonder what she is like, probably very similar to her father after all she was raised by him. In fact, being late is probably some sort of bratty play on her part. At least being a guard means shadowing, and only that. I can stick to the shadows and observe. There is no need for conversation.

"Lady Sibella, Daughter of King Lupin." The guest announcer shouts. What a pretentious name.
A young woman steps into the room, her brown hair lay loose over her shoulders in an array of waves and curls. It wss besutiful and refreshing.
The dress she wore clung to her figure, showcasing her ample curves. Gods.
She walked towards the king, each step causing the slit to expose a large portion of her thigh.
I struggled to pull my gaze from her to observe the room.
Everyone surrounding me had a look of distaste and disgust. But then again, i am probably the only one who is swayed by her good looks, and gods are they good. Everyones look of disgust is probably because she is a bitch or something.

I turn to look back towards the princess who isn't slowing her stride, walking straight past the king. What is she doing? I dont frequent these dinners, but even I know you bow to the king, then you take your seat. Anyone who wants to keep their head knows this. She stops below a painting of a woman, and she curtseys. It is then when I realise the woman is her mother. I feel a twinge of sympathy. losing a mother is hard enough without having to find their body in a ditch. Everyone who is anyone knows about her mother.
May she rest in peace.

She is walking back down the table head held high, when i finally see her face. She's the girl who fell into me this morning. It was early and i was on my way to duty. That must be why they have use for me, she runs away alot. Everything makes more sense now. Except the fact that she runs away from a warm bed, food and no work. I know many people who cant even get a roof over their heads. She seems spoilt.

But all she looks is confident. It's either a really well performed front or she really is that pretentious. A cook steps forward and pulls out a chair, the one beside mine, not that she even looks in my direction. She simply smiles at the cook, takes a seat, and looks at the lords and ladies like an animal would its prey.

Strange for her to be sat this far down the table. Usually, the royals sit next to one another. The prince currently sits near the king and is doing a really bad job at pretending not to look at the princess.

I hate court behaviour. My sister explained to me how some of it works. How an out of date dress cause someone to be cast out is beyond me.

"Sister, so glad you could finally make it."
Everything in the princes tone suggests that he is, in fact, not glad at all.
"Im not your sister, mongrel."
First impressions aren't roaring of kindness currently.
One of the lords beside me shook their head and sighed.
Her eyes shifted to them, and she stuck out her tongue. The princess just stuck out her tongue at a lord. My sister is going to love this story.
"Lady Sibella. Act like the princess you are, or you will be removed from this table." The king said through gritted teeth.
"I can leave? Didn't know this was optional."
The look the king gave her was almost daring her to move. She kept eye contact until the king took a sip of whiskey. She seemed to physically jolt at that. Strange.

"Are you trying to stare me to my death? Because that doesn't work, I've tried many times with this lot."

*****
I have the rest plotted out but i will only continue the story if it picks up any love. For now. Im writing another called the bringer of light and destruction. (I prefer the plot for this one) love ya x