Queensmen

Chapter 38

~Borrowed Knife~

Oris wished she was as noble as Mayree said she was. She wished that she had come to the palace with some great aspiration in mind.

But she hadn't.

This had all started because she hadn't been good enough. Her parents had considered her the weaker child and chose to send her away as an infant instead of raising her. Her sister was the perfect heir while she wasn't. When that changed she had been called back like a handy spare, not even able to have her own identity. She could only live in her sister's shadow and smile and nod at those who propped her on the throne; a puppet ruler.

With no real power, she hadn't had foolishly held any grand desires. She just wanted the ability to protect the people she cared about but even then she wasn't able to. She could only watch Bren slip away from her till they were nothing more than familiar strangers who had too much control for a drunk night of passion.

Then Hermes conquered her state. She had wanted to give up her life to protect her people but in the end ran away with the fantasy of rebelling and freeing them from oppression.

For two years, she had hid away and bided her time. How long would she have continued waiting for an opportunity to strike back if she hadn't been kidnapped for the sake of a priest's daughter?

To save Bren's life, she had run away with him. To protect Eve, she went to the palace. To protect her maids, she decided to be a good subject under Hermes' rule. To protect the people she endangered with her schemes, she had threatened the most powerful man on this side of the Great Sea with her measly life...as though it would make a difference.

All she had ever wanted was to keep the people around her safe. How was that kindness or selflessness? She just didn't want guilt to consume her because of her actions.

If anything, she was selfish. Selfish to have let her sister die in her place for the sake of first love. Selfish to go to palace with thoughts of killing Hermes for revenge. Selfish to inspire her maids to the point that they felt that she was worthy of their sacrifice.

"Mistress?" Andrea called softly from beside her. The girl stared at her with obvious worry, the fingers of both hands twisting around each other furiously as she frowned.

"Don't clear the broken plate," Oris said, but her voice didn't seem to be coming from her own mouth. It was hallow and far-removed. "You might cut yourself."

"Are you upset with us?"

"Upset?" Caught off guard, Oris couldn't help but look up at the girl. "I think you all are foolish but that won't change anything. Mayree has said so much, what can I say?"

"Thank you, Mistress," Mayree rose to her feet. "I will clear up the plate."

"No need," Oris' voice had regained some strength but as she stood her posture was unsteady. "I will do it."

"Mistress, you-"

"It was inconsiderate of me to waste food like that, especially when it's so hard to come by in our situation. Andrea, help me clean those cakes."

Oris stooped to pick up the first shard by her feet. She traced her finger along the broken edge. "I must be getting silly."

"Mistress, you aren't wearing shoes. Let me do it," Mayree grabbed Oris by the arm to help her up.

"You should stop calling me Mistress, you say that I treat you all like sisters so you should call me Big Sister."

"Mistress, what are you saying?"