Page 4 of Off with Her Head
Two approaches to power.
Two women who have sacrificed normalcy for the burden of a crown.
It's the thrill of finally being able to match the rumors to a face, nothing more.
I rise from my throne, already planning my attire for the evening. If Ravenna is truly the fairest of them all, then I shall be the most magnificent.
"Prepare my chambers," I command the nearest card-soldier. “I have a queen to provoke.”
The words taste like a threat on my tongue, but somewhere in the back of my mind, a traitorous little voice whispers that perhaps I mean them as something else entirely. The thought is disturbing enough that I push it away immediately, focusing instead on strategies for the upcoming summit.
I walk to the window, watching as the final few playing cards drift down to replace their fallen comrade. They'll learn. They always do. Fear is the greatest teacher I've ever known—it's what kept me alive when my parents were overthrown, what showed me that kindness is merely weakness wearing a pretty mask.
Toward the end of my youth, rebels infiltrated the castle during a harvest celebration. They slaughtered my parents in their thrones, spilling royal blood across the marble floors. I survived only because the Mock Turtle had hidden me in his shell, his tears creating a barrier that masked my sobs from the assassins. That night, after seeing my parents lifeless and cold, I made a vow: I would never allow such weakness again. I would make my kingdom—and myself—so terrifying that none would dare rise against the throne.
Fear became my shield, my weapon, mylegacy.
The afternoon sun catches on my ring, the ruby at its center as dark as freshly spilled blood. I twist it absently, remembering the first time I ordered an execution. I was hardly eighteen, my crown still new and heavy on my head. The court had watched, wondering if I would be strong enough,cruelenough, to maintain control of this wild and wonderful kingdom.
But Ravenna... Ravenna is different. She rules through power, not fear.Realpower—blood magic that flows through her veins like a birthright. I've heard that her black hair falls like silk and her blue eyes pierce through any lie. That she trusts no one but her mirror, keeping to herself in that dark castle of hers.
She'd do well to remember that my kingdom may seem like a dream, but I've spent a decade transforming it into a nightmare for outsiders.
And yet... my heart beats a little faster at the thought of meeting her. Of seeing if the rumors of her beauty are true. Of matching wits with someone who might be my equal. Is it anxiety? Anticipation? Something else entirely?
"Foolish," I whisper to myself as I shake my head. This is politics, nothing more. Two queens meeting to ensure peace between their kingdoms.
Even if my pulse quickens at the thought of her.
Even if I'm already planning which dress will make the strongest impression.
I turn away from the window, my skirts swishing against the marble floor. "Prepare my ruby and gold gown," I call to the waiting servants. "The one with the plunging neckline."
Let her see exactly who she's dealing with. Let her see that the Queen of Hearts fears no one—not even the most ruthless queen in all the lands.
But as I return to my chambers to prepare, I can't quite silence the voice in my head wondering what she'll think when she sees me. Will her piercing blue eyes linger? Will she find me as intriguing as I already find her?
I push the thoughts away.Iam the Queen of Hearts.
Fear, power, and perfectly maintained control.
Tonight, I'll remind everyone—including Queen Ravenna—exactly why I should not be underestimated.
The sun begins its descent as my handmaidens dress me for the evening. They work in silent efficiency, knowing that any mistake could cost them dearly. The ruby and gold gown flows over my form like liquid fire, the low-cut neckline both revealing and powerful. My hair is styled in elaborate curls, ruby combs holding it away from my face. My crown, smaller than the one I wear for official court but no less commanding, is placed precisely at the perfect angle to catch the light.
My cosmetics are applied with similar precision—eyes lined in black to appear larger and more intense, lips painted the exact shade of blood that I've ordered for my roses. Each element of my appearance is calculated for maximum impact: beauty to distract, magnificence to intimidate.
When they finish, I stand before the mirror, examining their work. The woman who stares back at me is undeniably beautiful, undeniably powerful, undeniably dangerous.Sheis the Queen of Hearts, ruler of Underland, commander of fear.
And tonight, she will meet her match.
"Perfect," I whisper to my reflection, smoothing invisible wrinkles from my gown. "Let's make an impression."
Chapter
Two
RAVENNA
