Chapter Seven The Villainess and the Hero
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Villainess and the Hero
When Lady Lia agreed to wed the Emperor, the ladies-in-waiting-to-be-queen were dowered and sent off.
The Tower of the Maidens became the Tower of the Queen, intended for Lia’s exclusive use.
Several ministers ambitious for their daughters objected that since the Emperor had cut short the Queen’s Trials to declare Lia the winner, said trials were no longer valid.
A new Queen’s Trials was called for, as glorious and daring as in days of old, when a prospective queen could not name a champion to represent her.
A true queen must prove her love with her own heart’s blood.
Their long-awaited Emperor deserved the honour of being fought for.
“Nice try,” remarked the Emperor. “I saw men sell off their girls in the Cauldron too. This is the same thing in fancy clothes.”
Several ministers grew red and speechless.
“My lord!” Lia, as was her way, calmed troubled waters. “Kind sirs. Forgive him. My betrothed is impatient to wed, and I hope nobody doubts my devotion. Could I ever love another man?”
The Emperor seemed amused by her question, though none could tell why. Alas for the court’s collective peace of mind, the Emperor often appeared darkly amused for no reason.
Later the ministers remarked among themselves: after all, far easier to deal with a kindly queen than the Emperor in one of his moods. The marriage might be for the best. Nothing steadies a wild young man like the love of a good woman.
A suitable time after Queen Lia’s mysterious death, the ministers suggested a new Queen’s Trials.
The Emperor agreed, provided the Queen’s Trials was held according to the glorious ancient customs. “Let me see a true queen, proving her love with her own heart’s blood.”
The Once and Forever Emperor series, now revised, ANONYMOUS
When Rae woke, she remained trapped in another world facing certain doom.
Nevertheless, she felt much better. Overnight, like an evil hen on a bad egg, she’d hatched her newest wicked scheme.
The nature of schemes meant some schemes didn’t work out, but Rae was no quitter. She had a bargain with a god to keep. She curled up in a white gauze bed with her undead snake and her cursed necklace, and proceeded to review her options.
Rae had got everything wrong. Someone else knew better.
Rae’s time in Eyam had lasted only a few months, but the Cobra had lived in Eyam for years.
She reminded herself again of the Cobra’s wisdom: This world is as real as ours, but those who walk into the story have an advantage because we know the rules.
She needed to know the rules of narrative in order to break herself out.
So, they were in a sequel. Since she’d failed at getting cleared off the board early on, like it or not, Rae was part of the story now.
Time to think about sequels! Like the difficult second album, second books were tricky.
In some sequels, you got the plot of the first story recycled.
That was the safest option. The writer already knew readers liked that story.
When it came to stories, Rae felt the safe choice was always a mistake.
Even if people said they wanted the same story again, they meant they wanted to feel the same feelings they felt when reading the first story for the first time.
You never felt the same shock of joy, love or sorrow from having the warmed-up leftovers of the first story served as a new meal.
An exciting sequel brought fresh highs and dramatic lows, new innocents dragged in to suffer and familiar faces killed off without mercy.
Rae loved the Once and Forever Emperor series because each sequel stepped it up, changing what you thought you knew about the familiar world and characters, or introducing new characters who altered the plot past recognition.
Great sequels took risks and got complicated.
Great sequels did everything great first books did, backwards and in high heels.
Great sequels upped the stakes, the tension and especially the body count.
This was bad news for someone inside a dangerous sequel.
The last thing Rae needed was for the story to get more complicated. Her course was clear. The goddess’s requirements were simple.
Victory over the enemy. True love. A happy ending.
She knew their enemy. That was meant to be half the battle. As an accidental result of Rae’s rash actions, the army of Tagar had arrived years ahead of schedule. The ice raiders must be defeated.
Rae had obviously screwed up the timeline, since the army wasn’t meant to attack until book three, but while Rae hadn’t read the first book properly, she had read all the others many times.
The second book was largely about the Emperor and Lia’s wedding, which was no longer happening; Emer clawing her way into the nobility, also no longer happening; and the rebels rising against the Emperor, which got sorted out pretty quickly.
So none of that mattered, but the third book was about war with Tagar.
Rae hoped her encyclopaedic knowledge of the Emperor’s glorious conquests could be used to achieve a swift victory.
Rae had not yet worked out how to achieve a swift victory. Nor could she achieve a happy ending at present. You couldn’t have a happy ending until the end.
Time to turn this narrative around and go back to basics, back to the shape of the very first stories.
Even children knew the essential ingredients of a fairy-tale happy ending: you had to love, and be loved in return.
True love’s kiss as universal remedy. Romance was urgently required!
If Rae could make a romance happen, a happy ending must follow.
The rules of narrative were clear. Millions of readers could not be wrong. Romance demanded a happy ending.
And Rae needed for the hero of this particular story to be happy.
She would do whatever it took. She would do it even if he killed her.
Though she would rather he didn’t.
Once Rae’s favourite character in any world was as happy and beloved as she had always wanted, the Great Goddess had promised Rae could go home.
“Victoria Broccoli, true love shall conquer all,” she proclaimed. A heroine in a fantastical tale could often confide her secrets to magic horses. Being a villain, Rae made do with a zombie snake.
If she ran her finger along Victoria’s looping traceries without looking down at her jewelled head, Rae could pretend she was alive.
Rae should go downstairs to her lair of sin, and find an outfit suitable for her latest scheme. She gave herself a moment more to sit in Lia’s bed, hugging her knees and her fragile new dream.
From the topmost tower room, Rae saw clear across the city.
Sunrise and abyss fires had turned the lingering clouds from ghost grey to cherry-red and scarlet as pomegranates.
Against a sky that was no longer lurid red and black but crystal blue with only a faint remaining trace of red, as if a bloody hand had snatched at a sapphire and failed to hold it.
Cloud parted like ripe fruit over Themesvar, the sun’s rays turning the city of many colours into a sparkling treasure chest. The dome of the Golden Brothel and the silver threads of the twin rivers glittered in the sun.
And the sides of the treasure chest, the walls of the great walled city, stood high once again.
Even from the Maidens’ Tower, Rae could make out points of movement. She saw intense concentrations of activity all along the walls, like watching ants from on high. Only these weren’t ants. The Emperor had sent his tireless, innumerable dead to heal the raided city.
Last night, the city walls were broken through, the gates crashed down to the dust. This morning, beneath a brilliant sky, the Emperor put the world to rights.
Clearly, Rae had underestimated him. It would be for the last time.
The Emperor could do anything. Even, with Rae’s help, escape his fate. The goddess had told her he didn’t love her. Rae never expected him to. He didn’t love her, but he might forgive her.
Then she could go. She could live.
All Rae needed was to find the true love of the hero. To whom she herself was currently fake-engaged.
She had a plan. For her plan to work, Rae must play the part of the villainess.
The false love interest who came before the true.
The heartless, deceitful bitch who didn’t deserve him; the type who would rig the competition for prom queen, or break his heart by becoming a seductress spy for France.
Always in revealing clothing, eventually revealing her true character so the hero turned away from her forever.
It was the role Rae was born to play.
She was fully aware she might die. The hero might kill her. But it felt better to seize this chance than be helpless.
Her latest cunning plan might be nothing but Rae grabbing at a rope, only to find the rope was a shadow. She was used to failure. Chemotherapy, the Flower of Life and Death, a thousand schemes… nothing had saved her yet. Not yet.
Evil persevered in an inspiring way, when you considered its track record. Villainous plans failed almost one hundred per cent of the time, but villains never stopped scheming.
She had someone else to scheme for now. She had someone to save at all costs.
Rae tossed her midnight hair. When her feet hit the floor of the tower, she hoped even the ghouls in the abyss heard the sound.
Defeat was only guaranteed if you stopped fighting.