Page 3 of Off with Her Head
I return to my throne, adjusting my crown of gold and rubies. Another execution, another example made. This is how order is maintained in a kingdom where reality bends like a dream and magic runs wild through every creature's veins.
Yet as the court resumes its normal activities—the Duchess arguing with the cook, the Dormouse falling asleep in his teacup, the Knave of Hearts sneaking tarts when he thinks no one is looking—I find myself wondering, not for the first time, if there could be another way. The thought is fleeting,dangerous, and I dismiss it before it has a chance to fester. Underland requires a firm hand. It requires fear. It requiresme.
A flutter of pink catches my eye—Gariel, my favorite flamingo, its crystalline feathers tinkling like wind chimes as itapproaches my throne. Unlike the flesh-and-blood flamingos of other realms, the birds of Underland are partially translucent, their feathers catching the light and transforming it into delicate music. Gariel is particularly magical, capable of changing the tune of its chimes to match my moods—a trait that makes it invaluable as both a lookout and a confidant.
Its long neck bows in submission before it speaks. "My Queen, there's movement at the eastern border." The words are bright and airy as it speaks, almost like there's a flute permanently lodged within the tight confines of its throat.
I sit straighter, my interest piqued.
"What kind of movement?"
"Dark mist, Your Majesty. It appears to be reinforcing the border between Underland and Darkmore."
I tap my fingers against the armrests of my throne, the rhythmic click of my nails against solid gold echoing my thoughts. Reinforcing borders typically precedes more aggressive action—a harsh lesson I learned during my parents' overthrow. "When did this begin?"
"Just before dawn, Your Majesty. The border guards report that the mist carries whispers—unintelligible, but distinctly magical." Gariel's feathers shift, creating a minor chord that reflects the tension of its news.
Darkmore. Queen Ravenna's kingdom. The thought of her has my fingers tightening on the armrests of my throne. We've never met, but her reputation precedes her—a witch-queen who rules through blood magic, consulting only with her prophetic mirror, managing to keep her kingdom shrouded in perpetual twilight. Some whisper that her isolation has driven her to madness.
She’s a threat. And now she's fortifying her borders.
"Send for the Gryphon,immediately." The Gryphon serves as my informer. His ability to soar undetected above neighboring kingdoms makes him invaluable for gathering intelligence.
Gariel bows again and retreats without another word, its lucid feathers creating a melody of soft chimes. While I wait, I watch my card-soldiers in the palace gardens through the towering windows. They move with military precision, painting the white roses red—a daily ritual that must be maintained for the kingdom's magic to flow properly. The roses are particular about their color; they must be theexactshade of fresh blood. Too bright, and they become sickeningly cheerful; too dark, and they begin to wilt. The perfect crimson hue makes them vibrant, ensuring the kingdom's power is flowing and balanced, which keepsmein control.
The Gryphon arrives moments later, his golden feathers ruffled from flight. Unlike most gryphons, who are merely half-eagle and half-lion, the gryphons of Underland have feathers that contain flecks of real gold and claws capable of slicing through enchanted armor. They're fiercely intelligent and unwaveringly loyal—at least, as long as their loyalty is properly rewarded.
"Your Majesty." He bows low, his eagle eyes never leaving mine.Trust, in Underland, only extends so far.
"Report," I demand. Time is a luxury I do not have.
"Queen Ravenna has increased military training in her kingdom. The dark forces are gathering more frequently, and her army appears to be preparing for something..." his voice fades before he continues. "Significant."
I tap my fingers against the throne, considering this news. A military build-up combined with border reinforcement suggests preparations for either defense or aggression. Neither of which bode well for the current peace.
"And what of the diplomatic summit this evening?" I ask, referencing the long-scheduled meeting between our kingdoms. It had been arranged months ago, a formality meant to renegotiate trade agreements and border patrols. It suddenly seems like it might serve a more crucial purpose.
"Queen Ravenna’s attendance is confirmed. She will be traveling with a small retinue—her commander and her liaison to Underland."
Ravenna. Her name alone sends an unwelcome flutter through my chest. The infamous Queen of Darkmore. Tales of her beauty and ruthless power have passed my ears more often than I can count. They say she's the fairest in all the lands, that her magic runs as dark as her reputation.
They say many things about Queen Ravenna. Tonight, I'll have a chance to discover which rumors might be true.
"Very well." I wave my hand in dismissal, but the Gryphon hesitates.
"There's more, My Queen. Our insiders have reported that her mirror has been especially active lately. We can only speculate at this time, but it appears to be influencing the movements of the Darkmore army."
This gives me pause. Ravenna's mirror is legendary, almost as famous as she is. While my power comes from fear and strict control, hers reportedly stems from foreknowledge—the ability to see possible futures and navigate them to her advantage. If it's showing her visions of the future...
"Double the guards tonight. I want eyes on her every moment that she's in my castle. She doesn'tbreathewithout supervision."
The Gryphon bows and takes flight, leaving me alone with my thoughts. Through the open windows, my eyes catch a card-soldier just as he slips with his paintbrush, leaving a thick streak of white visible on one of the roses. Without hesitation, I raisemy hand and cleanly snap my fingers. The soldier explodes into a shower of playing cards that flutter to the ground.
The other soldiers work faster, their brushes moving desperately while they try to maintain precision. They know the price of imperfection in my kingdom. The slightest imbalance will siphon the kingdom's power faster than we can mend it, and it takes years to recover.
Tonight, I will finally meet Queen Ravenna face-to-face. The thought sends another vibration through my chest, this one accompanied by a spike of anticipation. She rules through prophetic magic and isolation; I rule through fear and spectacle.
Two queens.
