Chapter 19

It’s dark. That’s the first thought I have when I wake up. When I attempt to stand up, the soldier on my right tenses as if they’re prepared to kill me if I so much as breath wrong. So, I remain seated with my arms wrapped around my legs.

As I take deep breaths to calm my mind, my eyes examine the rooms layout, trying to find a way out. Dimly lit by candles, the room shadows extend into corners that hold secrets I can’t see. Based on the rustling noises that’s coming from those areas though, I’m certain there are more soldiers standing guard. Makes sense. I thought them having only one soldier to watch me was both insulting and dumb.

From what I can see, this room is lacking in décor creativity. The only furniture in the room is an empty chair, or I guess it looks more like a throne. And off to the side, a framed picture of an aged man with graying hair and tired eyes is hung on the wall.

The golden frame speaks of a grandeur that I don’t feel from the picture. Most nobles or royals have their portraits made with the intention of displaying that they reached a height of success and renown impossible for most. This one just looks—sad. Like the man is approaching his last days and he knows it.

Something bangs against the stone ground causing me to flinch. The tightness in my stomach turns into a stabbing sensation when I hear someone speak.

“Bow before her Imperial Majesty,” a booming voice commands.

Several seconds pass as I process what I just heard. It’s only when I catch a glimpse of a figure stepping into view that I hit the floor. Prostrating myself against the stone ground makes it so I can only see the feet of the people that approach, but based on their shoes, I know I’m in serious trouble.

In front is a soldier with gleaming silver armor. Behind them is who I can only assume is the Queen. As in the Queen of Estain. No one else holds the title of Queen in the entire world, so it has to be her. The Queen’s slow gait suggests that even the Divinity of Time must submit to her will.

For a reason I cannot fathom, being on my knees feels unnatural. My instincts are demanding that I rise, but I resist. If I stand up now, I might as well walk up to one of the soldiers and ask them to finish me off.

Recognizing that before me is not some random noble or royal, but the Queen herself, it sends my brain into overtime. By chance, do they know about Asher? No one said I’m being arrested for killing a noble!

I can’t always feel them when they grow in, but this time I can. The scales on my face brush against the stone and a sense of peace washes over me in that moment. One way or another, I’m dead. With these scales, my lies have been revealed plain as day.

Knowing my fate is sealed, I patiently wait for someone to address me. When th Queen’s voice rings out though, it renews my sense of fear. “Hello child. Are you having a pleasant evening?”

Umm, no.

I wait in expectation of her next words, but she says nothing else. I give a whispering response. “Yes, your Majesty.”

I hear shuffling coming towards me, but I don’t look up. I’m not sure what etiquette you’re supposed to have when greeting the Queen, so keeping my head down is the best decision I think I can make in this situation.

The Queen squats in front of me and tugs my chin up so our eyes lock. Her light brown hair shines in the candlelight cascading over her shoulders. Growing up, hearing stories of the beauty of the Queen, it set my expectations quite high. It seems though, the only word I can think to describe her, both in looks and in her presence is…plain.

“Underwhelmed?” Her question catches me off guard.

I’m not sure what facial expression I’m showing, but I know that I messed up. Even if it was a thought, the Queen’s appearance should be the last thing I’m focusing on.

“Yes, that is the reaction most people have when they see me for the first time. The only thing that seems to get them to respect, or rather fear me is—"

The sensation of something grinding against my bones when I met the soul carver, that was annoying. This feeling, however, I think from this day on, is what I’ll think of when I hear the word pain. Nerves scream in protest as if they’re being plucked and pulled.

This feeling works its way through my toes before crawling up my spine to the top of my head. Whatever is happening manages to even affect my internal organ. My lungs are fighting to intake enough air to live, so screaming is beyond me.

It’s hard to determine how long the pain lasts. Once it’s gone, my muscles continue to spasm as I try to recover.

“Cool huh?” The Queen asks in a whimsical voice. As if she just performed a trick that she expects me to applaud her for.

When my head clears, I’m able to recognize what the metallic taste in my mouth is. I try to move my tongue only to stop when my nerves alert me that something’s wrong. I halt any movements and hold my mouth open letting the blood drip to the ground.

Did I bite through it? Glancing down, I’m relieved that there’s no severed tongue in sight.

Does my current state distress the Queen? Not at all. In fact, if I had the courage to look at her, I’m certain I would see her smiling at me.

“You will heal soon enough, so for now, just listen. Since your mom worked in the pleasure district when she got pregnant with you, it can be argued that your father could be anyone. Even a noble.” The Queen pauses as if lost in thought.

A shiver goes through my spine having no idea where she’s going with this. Wherever it is, I doubt it’s going to be good for me. Nothing’s free in this life.

“Basically, I need a rat. Someone I can move around at will but has little to no value. Am I making sense?”

Still unable to talk, I nod my head not wanting to keep her waiting. Exhausted, my hands are trembling from the effort to hold me up. Or is it from fear?

“Your story will be simple. If anyone asks, you are an illegitimate child of a noble, but you grew up with your mother in Wirra. If they ask for a name, say that you are unable to disclose it and end it there.” The Queen stands back up. The long skirt of her red dress sways from the movement just barely avoiding my blood on the floor.

“Now, swear it.”

My eyes grow large at what she’s asking me to do. This isn’t an agreement. It’s a slave contract. If I promise, I’ll be bound to her for the rest of my life. She’ll have a say in everything I do, who I talk to, where I live, all of it. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to say no to her.

But if I don’t, she’ll kill me. What should I do?

As always, the voice doesn’t respond when I have a question. Typical.

“Girl?” The Queen’s voice is no longer upbeat.

My answer is either yes or no, and I need to say it now. Holding out my hand that has the weeping flower in it, I mumble an answer. “Iminity.”

A glowing circle spreads out before me. With my head still turned down, I’m able to see a weeping flower that symbolizes my country shine brightly for a moment before it withers and disappears. In its place, a crescent moon shines.

It’s a symbol that belongs solely to the Queen, the only monarch of Estain to be born under the Divinity of Darkness’ season. The moon disappears, but the promise remains. Until death does us part, my fate is tied to the Queen. More specifically, I suppose I should say, until I die. I doubt I would be so lucky for the Queen to die before me. I’ve never been that lucky.

“Raise your head.” Hesitantly, I peer up and as expected, I see that smile on the Queen’s face. “I doubt I need to say this, but…if you dare to betray me, I’ll kill everyone you love. Then, I will lock you in a cell and syphon off your power until you are nothing but a husk of a person.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” I’m too numb to react to her threat.

I remain on the floor bowing as the queen makes her exit. When she stops, I dart my eyes up to see what’s keeping her from leaving. I hope she doesn’t have anything else she wants from me.

The Queen is standing in front of the painting of the old man I was analyzing earlier. From this position, it seems like her body is shaking. I’m not sure if that means she’s sad or upset.
“Your majesty?” The deep cautious voice of the soldier that followed her in inquires what’s bothering her.

“Why is there a picture of Sir Fox on the wall?”

No one answers her. Taking matters into her own hands, the Queen grabs the frame of the picture and pulls it from the wall. The metal hooks and screws that kept it in place make clinking sounds as they fall and scatter across the ground.

“Burn.” Answering her command, the ring on the Queen’s hand shines just as the picture along with the frame ignites. “Losers, should not be allowed to be remembered.”

By the time I’m escorted out, the picture of whoever that person was has already burnt down to nothing. If she won’t even let a picture of someone she hates survive, I worry what she’ll do to me.

That’s when I have a comforting thought that wasn’t so comforting before. At least I’ll be dead soon. In the what, year I have left, there’s not much she can do to me. Maybe I am luck after all.

I follow the two soldiers wordlessly as they lead me down a never-ending hallway. Since no one is talking to me, I have time to think about how badly I messed up. I wonder if Rumi found out I’m gone by now. He must be searching everywhere, but he won’t find me.

And Sai. Now he’s all alone. To the very end, I couldn’t do anything for him, huh.

“Stop.” My steps halt on top of large piece of stone that stands out on the floor. “Watch out below.”

I want to ask what the soldier means, but that’s unnecessary. The stone that I’m standing on top of drops out from under me.