Chapter Twenty-Two The Villainess Steals a Ride
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Villainess Steals a Ride
“If a creature cannot be tamed, it must be destroyed,” said King Octavian.
The royal menagerie was a place of marvels, displaying both the wealth of Eyam and the tribute paid by faraway lands.
Many fabulous beasts dwelled therein, from unicorns to griffins, leucrotta to manticore.
Though a few had to be cowed by chain and whip, most came to regard their carers with affection.
Not always.
Sometimes, there was a beast with a heart too hard to respond to tenderness, and a spirit so high it resented cruelty. Such an animal now lay chained in the pit, refusing even to eat.
The king had given his orders. If the creature did not eat by sundown, it was to be destroyed. A young guard at the menagerie decided to have some boyish sport with the doomed beast. The creature was chained fast, so he could kick it at his leisure.
When the guard brought out a branding iron, the other guard on watch with him took note.
One moment the young guard was passing the mouth of the beast’s pit, orichal-clawed whip in one hand, brand in the other. Then through a stumble, or possibly a shove, he fell in.
There ends the tale of that young guard. He was recorded as abandoning his post, since no body was ever found.
“What’s that racket?” demanded the officer at the menagerie gates.
The second guard jumped into the pit to investigate.
“Good news!” he called out. “She’s eating! It seems she prefers her meat fresh off the bone.”
In the pit, the pair held each other’s gaze. Neither showed fear. Neither ever did. Fire wakens fire, and knows its own. The monster’s eyes gleamed red. So did the beast’s.
“They say you’re a wild, wicked thing, and the world would be better off without you,” murmured Key the guard. “Live, to spite them. They say the same thing about me.”
Time of Iron, ANONYMOUS
Rae stood with the bevy of maidens at the edge of the dread ravine, peering over the parapet at the outermost left wing of the palace. For the first stage in the Queen’s Trials, each maiden must prove her courage by walking a dread path.
The dread path was a narrow stone edifice stretching from one palace tower to the next and back again, curving around and around like a spiral staircase, with the sudden drops of a roller coaster.
The narrow stone loops would make anyone walking the path need to creep almost upside down at some points.
It was a stone tightrope carved into tangles, suspended over the hungry flames of the abyss.
Like a snake eating its own tail, the path looped back to the palace, ending where it had begun.
Simply by looking at the dread path, anyone could see that some of the damsels who walked it would never return to the place they started from.
“I have to ask,” said Rae. “What diseased mind built a walkway of death here in the first place?”
She felt like a snake eating her own tale. She had made the story happen. This close, the heat of the flames blasted Rae’s hair back. Far below, she saw shapes writhe and moan in the abyss.
The Emperor stood with folded arms, regarding flames and beauties with a disdainful air. “Say the word, and we call off this farce and hold the wedding tonight.”
In principle, Rae absolutely agreed. A dragon had arrived and war threatened. This was an absurd time to hold complicated romantic rituals.
But what was she supposed to do: get married and murdered, and leave Key to his doom?
Longing for Revenge, its very name sealing Rae’s fate, hung at his belt.
Between the metal fangs of the snake on the sword hilt the cursed jewel gleamed black and red, as if the snake had a mouth full of blood.
When the heroine of the books asked Key to throw away the God’s Eye, he hurled it into the abyss.
When Rae stole the heroine’s place, Key made the God’s Eye part of his legendary blade.
It could never be you. The goddess was right.
Rae shook her head, determined to be vain, cruel and ignore political realities. “My triumph as queen will be even sweeter after seeing the downfall of my rivals. Forget the raiders at the door, my Adonis of the apocalypse. Do my will only.”
She hung shamelessly on the arm of the Emperor, checking the progress of his disgust with his unworthy bride-to-be. She found him watching her with intent focus.
For him alone, Rae murmured, “Do I sound terrible?”
The cruel curve of his mouth brushed the shell of her ear. “Truly terrible. Let the world tremble before its evil queen.”
That was how he killed Lady Ninell. Smiles, charm, until she put her hand in his and he ripped her heart out. Rae dropped his arm.
“Walking the abyss path will be looked upon favourably by your future subjects,” Pio informed the ladies-in-waiting. “It symbolises the thorny path of marriage. Being willing to risk the flame shows you are ready to rule on high over our kingdom of waiting death.”
The select audience of nobles applauded. Before Rae got disqualified as prospective queen, perhaps she could arrange a raise for the prime minister.
In order to be disqualified, Rae needed to get her maidens in a row.
Several women had voluntarily declined the honour of taking part, including the Horrors.
More than a dozen remained, each wearing her best day dress.
One of the dozen was Rae’s preferred candidate.
Lady Glacia’s face was pale, but determined.
Her dress was grey, like a very modestly tailored dishrag.
Rae had dressed as the worst choice for queen imaginable.
Red embroidered serpents coiled, heavy with silk thread, at the hems of her skirts.
A dozen scarlet serpents wound their way across the snowy terrain of her dress to eat each other’s tails in a hungry circle around her waist. Speaking of snowy terrains, Rae’s evil twin peaks were on display in this dress. She’d planned that, too.
Glacia’s type of heroine often had small breasts, so she could be insecure but readers would be reassured she was skinny.
Mention of small breasts was perfectly acceptable and overlooked in books, while any character who happened to have a large chest was regarded as obtrusively pneumatic.
Heroines didn’t get their tits out. The idea of Rae as the Emperor’s true queen was absurd.
Several ministers gave Rae looks saying they agreed. Rae returned their stares with a glittering smirk.
“My dear young ladies,” said the prime minister. “Who wishes to prove her courage first?”
“Not me,” Rae said firmly. “I’m a huge coward.”
Not queen material, said the ministers’ judgemental gazes. Again, Rae and the government officials were in complete accord.
Lady Ninell put up her hand with a charming, disarming smile. “I’ll give it a go.”
“Lady Ninell Almassy walks the path,” announced Pio.
Ninell, a vision in blue, walked by the line of officials, telling little jokes as she went. She seemed to know everybody important, and know the right thing to say to each one. She was the kind of person everybody liked.
Foolishly, Rae looked towards the Emperor, as if he were still Key and would always protect her from harm.
The Emperor was looking at someone else.
“Are you Glacia?” The Emperor gave the startled Glacia a real smile. “I’m Key.”
He’d noticed her. He knew her name. It was happening! The romance was on. Glacia hadn’t done anything to attract attention, but Key had still noticed her.
Rae always thought “being mysteriously drawn to each other” was a lazy trick writers used so they could smash characters together like dolls. But now she considered this again. Who knew what drew people together? Perhaps it was always a mystery.
Glacia seemed both delighted and terrified to have attracted Key’s attention. The girl trembled from head to feet at the touch of his gauntleted hand on her grey arm.
Rae’s stomach curdled like milk left out in the sun.
She gritted her teeth. Rae was a villain.
It was natural for her to be jealous. A villain harbouring romantic feelings for the hero was extremely common!
It never ended well, you always got humiliated, rejected, or went into an “If I can’t have him, no one can” spiral.
She needed to ignore her feelings. She needed to accept she was unworthy of an epic love and slink away. But she didn’t need to enjoy it.
As Key and Glacia talked in low voices, Rae watched Ninell negotiate the walkway of death. She was very brave and jaunty about it. On the narrowest part Rae saw her hesitate, but at the next moment she performed a little skip for the crowd. Lord Adel clapped enthusiastically.
The Emperor stayed focused entirely on Glacia. He was smiling again. Rae had to wonder what Glacia was saying that he found so interesting. Maybe Glacia was describing a favourite book. Fictional men always found bookish women irresistible. And Key, though he couldn’t read, liked stories.
“Lady Ninell Almassy has crossed the walkway of death and proved the courage of her heart to the Emperor,” announced the prime minister. “What lady dares go next?”
A lady Rae didn’t recognize volunteered to walk the path. Pio nodded her forward, and as the lady crept, trembling, onto the walkway, Rae approached the prime minister.
“Thank you for letting the Queen’s Trials happen. You’ve been so helpful, and I do appreciate it. Sincerely.”
Pio turned to her with a thin smile beneath his thin moustache. “Did you think,” he asked, “that I was helping you?”
On her way to rejoin the line of ladies, Lady Ninell took a tumble. Right into the Emperor’s arms. He caught her automatically, then glanced down at her pretty face. Key’s eyebrows indicated he was unimpressed.
“All right. I confess.” Lady Ninell dimpled. “I did that on purpose.”