Chapter 15: A Tactical Retreat

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"I was waiting for you to come," I say, sitting at my bedroom desk highlighting another note from Demonology. "You certainly took your time."

From the corner of my eye the figure shuts my bedroom door lightly behind them without making a sound. Her presence alone alerted me, the amount of power she radiates is incredible, however slightly unnerving. I know what she can do, I've been exposed to it all my life.

"If you must know," her voice begins, a velvety and light sound like beautiful bells pleasantly ringing. "I did have a meeting just now regarding the Empire's concerns, so I refuse to apologise for something which was out of my control."

"Out of your control?" I question rhetorically whilst looking up and swivelling around in my seat. "For Queen Envy herself, that is certainly a first."

Mother stands by the door, her hands clasped in front of her, looking as stunning as ever. An emerald, silk gown cascades down her body, smoothly dipping over her curves like a running spring. Her midnight hair frames her face, strands falling effortlessly past her shoulders and down her back emphasising her porcelain skin and jade, elliptical eyes that stare at me blankly. "How is your leg?"

"Oh, now you care about it?" I laugh coldly. "You did not a couple days ago. Not even a letter."

"Like I said, I was busy," she purses her lips and then takes a calming breath; her facade gives nothing away however I can tell her temper is quickening due to her actions. "I am a Queen, Olivia. I have my duties and my people to care about."

"Yet not your daughter," I counteract. "Not once have I ever come first."

"No, and you will never come first. When you become queen someday, you will understand," she nods sure of herself. "However I am not here to talk about us, I am here to talk about you. You are nearly sixteen, daughter. You will become your true self."

"Of course this is what you want to discuss," I scoff. "Only the next duties I must fulfil. Yet another chore I must accomplish. Am I but a checklist for you, mother? A step-by-step mission to form your perfect successor?"

"No, this is in fact, different," the Queen responds. "There is something I have not discussed with you, for it is a secret I swore to keep until now."

"How mysterious," I smile coldly. "Am I supposed to be grateful that you wish to tell me this?"

"Olivia," mother warns, her tone dropping. "This is important, stop it with your childish games."

I scowl and clench my fists, "Just because you hardly saw me as a child does not mean you can describe my attitude as such. When I was young I never was like this, yet you would not know since you were never here."

"Enough!" She exclaims, some sort of impulse shooting out from her blowing out my candles and rattling my room. The action causes Lucy to whimper from my bed, her wide red eyes laced with fear and worry. "You will not disrespect me in my own kingdom," she says in a deadly calm voice. "You are my daughter, however we have not discussed who your father is."

I frown, "Nor do I care. Apparently you do not as well, or else he would still be here right now."

She clenches her draw and her eyes flicker slightly brighter, "You do not understand. Your assumptions will be your downfall one day."

"So I will wait for that day," I shrug a shoulder. "I do not care for that man. He did not raise me, he is hardly a father as you are my mother."

"Olivia," she hisses. "You do not want to anger me, child. I did everything I did to make you stronger."

"Why?!" I yell out in anger. "There are so many different ways for me to be strong, mother. Yet I have never had anyone I can reply on, depend on. Someone to show me the ways of being a queen who truly cares for me."

"Yet now you are independent, headstrong and fierce. Certainly your attitude is distasteful and your outbursts are immature, however you are a real queen in the making. Hence why we need to discuss your father."

I slam my fist on the table, "We do not need to discuss anything. All you are doing is excusing your terrible parenting."

She goes quiet and we simply stare at one another. Practically strangers in the same room, she doesn't even understand me. I try and reason with the only way I know how to- yelling. I don't know how to solve conflict, I don't know how to be kind, I'm not sure how to let people in. All I know is myself, how I don't need to rely on anyone for anything and that it's me against the world. Yet it didn't need to happen in such a horrid way.

"Have a good night," she says gently, her expression a blank canvas of nothingness as she slips out of the room. For a second I have to reassure myself she was there, only the raging inferno of anger in the pit of my stomach reminds me of her presence, her words.

That was the first time I've seen her in three months.

I finish my homework before packing the tote bag, laying out an outfit for tomorrow on my dresser. I bite my lip as I stare at the pistachio green, short dress with long sleeves a v-neck cutout, paired with a chunky light tulip pink cardigan made of wool. I release a sigh of annoyance about contemplating leaving for school tomorrow, the solitary company of my dorm room will suffice enough.

I huff in frustration as I realise I'm running away. No, I'm doing a tactical retreat. Staying here will only do more damage that is worth, or so I tell myself anyway as I pick up my crutches and walk through my room to my balcony.

My bed is placed adjacent to my door, a fancy king size piece with white sheets; decorative sage green pillows and a throw cause the bed to look even more luxurious and it truly is; sad that I'll only be sleeping in it for one night. A fluffy white rug compliments the wooden floors, whilst my desk sits between two incredibly large wardrobes opposite my bed.

I make it to my balcony with a single glance at Lucy who's calmed down and is sleeping on the bottom of my bed just by my dresser.  Opening up the sliding door the cold instantly hits me and I can't help but shut my door after me. I stare into the darkness, the trees looking eerily shaped and the grass appearing too flat. Everything looks so different at nighttime, certainly spookier.

My arms turn goose pimply, my chest tightens and my stomach drops. My heart starts to quicken and the hairs on the back of my neck raise. Uncomfortable. An undeniable anxious thought interrupts the tranquil night that dries my throat: I'm being watched. Eyes burn into my skin, staring at me from the protection of the blackness, scrutinising my every move in such a way it's almost primal. I try and act calm as my eyes adjust to the dimness, trying casually play off the invisible encounter with false confidence.

My eyes slowly trail to a lone tree, the closest one to my house. The more I stare at it the easier it is to notice something seems off about it. Call it a displacement of my bedroom light, or the fact that the leaves become blurry at one particular point, yet I can't help but stay staring at the unclear spot.

Suddenly a creature snaps into presence, it's purple-black scales reflecting the lights. It's small wings begin to flap and it's back arches to take off, it's two arms and legs propelling it from the tree. It hisses at me and momentarily a spark of fear slips in, the thought that it could attack me.

It doesn't. Rather it launches itself into the night sky, easily blending in with the night. Undeniably, that thing was am imp. Watching my every move and listening to my words. This is what chills me to the bone.

The Devil's eyes and ears.

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