Page 17 of Kill the Queens
Never again. She’d sworn to herself as a child, freshly after her tenth birthday. Never again would she be too weak to defend herself. Never again would she allow a grown man to overpower her. Not after it took so long for the bruises on her neck, stomach, and legs to fade. Not after she’d cried to her eldest sister about how the sensitive parts between her legs had hurt for hours and ached for days. Not after Idalia had patted her hand softly and told her that it was a lady’s place in the world to stay quiet about such sickening matters or elseshe’dbe the one to blame.
SIX
Queen Farah
The next morning Farah woke up hungry. Not for a hearty meal but for the idea that the man who’d stopped her had given her. Her thoughts churned as she tried to make some sort of plan in her head. First, she’d have to find him again. To do that she’d have to leave the castle…
Outside the castle, there was a plethora of potential issues, including but not limited to the Fae that had already torn through Queen Sienna’s castle. She recognized now how foolish it had been to go out without guard last night. Her mind had been fogged with the need to destroy someone, to be stronger than her opponent, and to continue to prove to herself that she was no longer the victim but the predator.
Guards were positioned at nearly every corner, their watchful eyes avoiding looking directly at the queen as she tore down the hall. The material of her long slender gown, a lovely blush color, rippled with every movement she made. The silk clung to her frame which wasn’t near as shapely as her younger sister’s had been.
She opted to skip breakfast as she was fueled only with the plans she was currently forming. Her staff swung at her side; she refused to let its end brush against the ground as she moved through her castle. Sienna’s staff stayed locked in the safe in her room.
The hallways were bare of art. A clean slate that she’d never bothered to decorate. There was something pleasantabout feeling as if her space was clean and free of clutter that her other sisters didn’t quite understand.
Of course, she had things she’d fancied sitting out at one time or another, like the statue the girl had been cleaning last night. Farah passed it as she made her way to the exit. It was a little gold figure of a woman, some long forgotten goddess she assumed, seeing as there was a god and goddess for every mundane thing. Some were bound to be lost to collective memory. What remained special about the statue was that the woman didn’t look like anyone else she knew. She was muscular, similarly to the man who’d stopped her last night, and she held an ox over her head. A triumphant smile brightened her features.
Farah gave the statue a good pat before she reached the end of the hall and thrust the doors wide open. Grunts greeted her before the whispers did. The clouds that had blotted out the moon last night were gone, leaving the sky a crisp morning blue. The smell of fresh blooms mingled with the heady scent of sweat as the lineup of men that had gathered in the castle courtyard all stopped to bow. She swept herself down the few steps making her way to Bethra, the woman who led her guard.
Bethra was shorter than Farah by a good five inches but what she lacked in height she made up with enthusiasm. Farah was certain Bethra enjoyed a good beat down as much as she did. The queen had gone against the wishes of her sister as she’d chosen a woman to lead her guard. Farah wasn’t threatened in the least by the stocky head guard with chin length brown hair. It was clear Bethra had spent the morning in the sun as her white skin was turning pink along her cheeks and reddening where her skin was elsewhere exposed. Farah noted the slight streaks of gray that poked through Bethra’s hair and wondered, for the very first time, how old the woman was.
There was a long line of men that extended from thesmall square of grass that had been blocked off by nothing more than wooden training swords that had been laid down. Bethra stood on the edge of the makeshift ring and shouted out orders and cheered when one man landed a particularly good blow.
Farah’s fingers curled into her palms, the longing to be out there to join them became a weight on her heart. Mindfully, she clasped her hands in front of her as she came to a stop next to Bethra.Look like a queen. Act like a queen.
“Good morning.” Her head guard dipped her chin. “Have you come to get a good look at our prospects?”
“Indeed,” Farah said, squinting into the sun. “Any favorites?”
“There are quite a few men that have shown good skills. Per your orders, we’ll be accepting as many men as are capable onto the guard.”
“Perfect. Send the best to train with the soldiers.”
With the Fae, Farah had to double her guard, but she wanted to also add to the army. She had a feeling she and her sisters would be needing them to defend their borders. As one man brought another to his knees the fight was ended. The queen slid her gaze to the waiting line where a new competitor was escorted to the ring.
“Yes, of course,” Bethra agreed.
“And I’ll instruct the warlocks to increase their production of grimoires to sell throughout Pasia. Any extra funds received from that endeavor I will funnel into the care and training of our elite guards and warriors.”
Bethra gave a slight smile, her fingers pulling at the end of her sleeve—a thread that didn’t even exist. The queen shuffled. A fine dusting of dirt clung to her heels and the hem of her dress. Finally, Bethra spoke to whatever thoughts were plaguing her.
“How is Queen Sienna?”
Surprise formed a knot in Farah’s throat, though she should have expected at least some questions. She offered Bethra her own polite grin. “From what I hear she is well. Off celebrating her new king somewhere in the countryside. She’d kept the location secret from even me.” She added a wink.
“It was truly devastating to hear about her castle.” There was a lingering question behind the statement.
What happened?Everyone wanted to know how and why the castle had fallen. Yet the public couldn’t handle the truth, so the hardship of its secret would be kept by the queens.
“A shame,” Farah said slowly. “It was a beautiful castle.”
Her head guard stared up at her for a while longer, waiting and hopeful for further explanation. Farah only pursed her lips and stared straight ahead. Farah stayed like this for some time next to Bethra, watching men fight and smiling anytime someone cried out in pain. She crossed her arms over her chest and pushed her weight into one hip. The wooden stick of her staff sat lightly against her body, the waters in the globe rocked gently with her mild mood.
Another man was swept out of the ring nursing a swollen lip. A new prospect walked into the center and gave a quick bow. Locks of black hair were swept up into a small ponytail, the shortest strands near his face sparkled with hints of gold.
Shock struck the queen like lighting. Her eyes narrowed as she tried not to let her interest show so vividly on her face. The man, this man that stood before her and Bethra, met her stare with keen interest that showed in the slightest uptick of his lips. Had his skin not been so dark she might have been able to make out a blush along his cheeks but instead, she could sense, or perhaps she’d hoped, that if he recognized her, he was embarrassed.
The queen found it quite ironic that the man who had stopped her from pummeling some unfaithful man into theground was now trying out as one of her guards. She shouldn’t have let him get a look at her. She should have been more careful. If he was wise though, he’d keep his mouth shut and not breathe a word of her presence on the streets of Saylor last night.
