The next morning, the sun was shining without a cloud in sight. I had slept in the alleyway all night, wet and cold and completely alone. When the sun rose, I walked back to the castle, my eyes at my feet and my heart in my throat. The guards approached me, the strange hooded figure arriving at their post. "Get lost!" they yelled at me. I must look like a beggar in my state.
I looked up to meet the eyes of the guard in his high post above the castle wall and took off my hood. My hair was full of dirt, my clothes were bedraggled, but I was still easily recognizable. The guards' eyes widened as they recognized their true monarch. "Officer Titus, I demand entry to my home," I ordered.
"My princess! We all thought you dead. Open the gates!" he called out.
"Apparently you all did a horrible job of protecting the royal family, if you thought I was dead. Or, the whole lot of you are traitors. I'm not sure which is worse," I said to them as the bridge lowered.
"We our out our best effort, but they overwhelmed us—" the officer began.
"I have no use for your excuses. Where your loyalties lie will be seen later." I walked across the bridge into the castle. The hallways were familiar, yet eerily different. There was silence across the stone walls, and paintings and tables lay strewn across the floor. People had been angry at my father for his injustice and had taken it out on his throne.
I walked up the stairs to my room. I paused before my door. There was a sharp arrow pierced into the light wood, which gave me a premonition of what the room most likely looked like. I went in and my room was utterly destroyed. My bed and canopy had been ripped to shreds. There was a layer of wool and feathers covering the floor. My gold gilded mirror had been pillaged and the pieces of glass were lying on the floor all around the empty frame. The painting of me was shredded; colors of gold and pink and tan were all that was left of the canvas.
My people truly hated me far more than I ever knew. I dropped to my knees in the middle of down feathers and wool. I cried into my hands for a long time to mourn the life I loved so much.
I heard my door open, and a careful voice whisper, "Princess?"
I turned to see one of my father's least favored advisors, a young woman named Penelope. She had stick straight brown hair pulled back with many hair clips. She wore all black, just as I did, but for a different reason. She was in mourning. I asked, "Who?"
"I think we need to discuss this somewhere else. This room..." She did not continue. "Please walk with me, Princess."
I looked down at my grimy self. "Allow me to change and bathe. Send a servant to draw a bath for me, and return in half an hour. The matters at hand can wait that long."
"As you wish, Princess." She nodded and took her leave.
I went to my closet. Everything there was in shambles, too. Strips of fabric were all over. I sighed and felt my hand along the wall. I slipped open a secret panel and grabbed my emergency gold nugget. It did not have much magic, but it had enough. I pulled out two relatively whole pieces of fabric and used magic to piece them together, good as new. It would take time to piece the rest of my dresses, and the rest of my room, back together. It could be done another day.
When I finished with my dress, I went into my bathroom to find a hot bath waiting for me. This room was nearly untouched other than another smashed mirror, which was a relief.
In the bath, I could not stop thinking. I felt my heart beating rapidly until my lungs started to cave in and I could not breathe. I put a hand on my chest, trying to feel whole again while my chest felt like it was caving in on itself. I breathed in quick rapid breaths and tried to exhale the pain away. It did not work. For a long while, I sat with my knees to my chest in a state of panic.
Images flashed through my head. My father, sitting on his throne of lies. Tristain, talking to Peter with their heads close. Tristain's smirk when he ran his hand through his copper hair. Every maid and guard on duty last night. The family I chose, the Magia. Everyone was in danger.
I had had the power to stop it all, but I had skipped a Magia meeting and everything went wrong. I had never really had a solid plan in the first place. I was such an idiot. This was all my fault.
I finally got out and breathed deeply. I calmed into a strong facade of steel. I would not be weak again. I put on my dress, which was cut in promiscuous places with a sheer skirt. It had a plunging back and little front to it. It had been easy to put together because there was barely any fabric to begin with. It showed off my body nicely. Today, I had to feel powerful, in control, and strong. I would do what needed to be done.
I let my blonde curls highlight my face, combing through them with my finger as I walked out into my room. I slipped into a pair of tall white heels and applied a pink lipstick. It was time to get down to business.
Penelope met me at the door after precisely an hour. "Hello, Penelope," I said. "Walk with me." I started to walk down the hallway, my tall heels clacking on the stone floor.
Crying had cleansed my emotional palate for the time being. "My father?" I asked.
She hesitated before answering. "Slain."
"And...Tristain?"
"He put up a fight, but was ultimately defeated. You are the last of the royal line."
"And I live."
"Everyone is wondering. How did you do it?" Penelope asked curiously. "They had quite the bounty on your head."
"This is not the time nor the place, Penelope. What of Lilianna?"
"She lives. As does Sir Ralphus, though you are obviously no longer obligated to him."
I listened to the sound of my heels clacking, cocking my head. "Yes... How many more have died?"
"Final counts have not been made. Your family, many nobles, any guard who stood between the criminals and their goals, a small few maids. Guards were the highest casualties."
"Then what of...Alix?" I asked, my confident voice finally breaking. I had barely even thought of my best friend in danger, too. He was supposed to be protecting me and I had not even thought of him. I realized in that moment how incredibly selfish I was.
She knew who I was referring to. Almost everyone knew him because he associated so closely with me. "He was on guard duty last night and has not been seen since," she said gingerly.
I took a deep breath. I would give myself three seconds. One... I thought of his face. Two... I was in a rage on his behalf. And three... I calmed. "Let's begin," I said. "I have a lot of work to do."
"You have time, m'lady," she said. "You have some time to recover and mourn."
"No. I do not. I am the new queen, and I have business to attend." My destination became clear to her as I arrived at a set of tall double doors. I swung them open and emerged into the throne room. The Orb beckoned to me behind the throne. I walked across the room, beckoning at the guards. "Open the windows! I want the castle out of lockdown." They stayed in place for a moment. They seemed surprised that I was alive, until I yelled, "Now!" and they scurried away.
I walked up the few stairs to the throne. It was welded out of pure obsidian and shined when sunlight was finally let into the room. I trailed my index finger on the armrest before I walked past it. I made my way towards the true center of the room, the heart of the kingdom. I put both of my hands on the Orb and sucked out magic until I felt rejuvenated and whole again. Then, I took more and more. My hands were glowing with golden light as I turned back towards the throne room. With my magic, the throne room was immediately scrubbed free, the windows open and basking the room was sunlight. Since most of the guards had been here to guard The Orb, this room was untouched. Even more than the king, The Orb was the most important thing in this entire world, and had to be protected at all costs.
With the use of more of my magic, a crown came floating in through the doorway, right into my outstretched fingers. It was a forged piece of black metal and stone. Intertwined pieces of black metal made the circle and came up in pieces of obsidian points, sharp as any blade. It was specially forged for my father, but it would do fine. It added a touch of darkness to my outfit. I raised the crown and placed it on my own head.
I stepped deliberately, my feet finally sure enough in my steadiness. I had always been worried of tripping in heels, but today I was rock solid. I sat down on the throne of cold, reflective black rock. I crossed one knee over the other, sitting up straight. My perfect burgundy painted nails tapped on the obsidian armrest as my face worked its way into a smirk. "Long live the queen," I said to myself.