Chapter 21 Violets #2
“I see.” Sinevia rubbed her fingers together, taking her eyes off the peasant before her.
“If I remember correctly, there are those in Misthelm who...” she breathed a pause, playing with her words, “...oppose me. They’ve made it known that they refuse to close their temples as I have demanded.
And now they dare to ask me to send them protection?
Let them pray for protection to the gods they so fiercely defend. ”
“Well, yes, Your Majesty, but it’s only a few—’’
The queen cut him off. “A few who have chosen their fate. To oppose me is to lose.” She stood, the long dark locks beneath her crown falling around her shoulders.
“I am no fool to this game. You expect me to be merciful? To overlook outright rebellion? Your temple priestesses pray for my downfall, do they not?” She laughed gently with a chilling hum in her throat.
“I have learned that mercy is a fool’s game.
And your deplorable citizens must learn that I do not play games. ”
“There’s nothing you can do?” Tears welled up in the man’s eyes as he pleaded up at the dark queen before him. “My children. It’s dangerous for them. I worry each night that there will be another raid.”
“Perhaps you should find a new place to live. Or convince those who oppose me to submit.”
“But, Your Majesty, with all due respect, even King Daemar offered protection regardless—’’
“Do not speak that name in my presence again,” Sinevia hissed. “In case you have forgotten, Daemar is long dead. And I am your Queen now. Do not return to my court unless you can tell me every soul in your village has pledged their allegiance to me and me alone. And you can prove it.”
"How…how would I possibly prove that, Your Majesty?" The man stuttered.
Sinevia smiled. "Bring me the head of your high priestess. Then maybe I will believe you." As the man's eyes widened in horror, the queen addressed the Captain. “Now get this man out of my sight.”
The Captain took the dejected man by the arm, and led him away, back through the great entrance of the throne room. When the doors were closed, Sinevia sent a guard to request that the Captain return alone.
As she waited, visions of the girl from weeks past flashed through her head—the strange girl who’d appeared in a dream one night, only for a moment, before she vanished like smoke.
Sinevia didn’t know who she was, but something about her gaze unsettled her and drew her in all at once.
She couldn’t forget those eyes, no matter how fleeting the vision was.
Some visions she could call on and control—but this one was sporadic and unclear.
She pushed the thought aside, having given up on it by now, replacing it again with thoughts of Asterious, and how she would make him suffer.
He had always been the noble one, despite the darkness that plagued him.
But that untamed temper of his left its ruin on him like the bloodstains of his cell.
But perhaps it could be the most useful tool to her of all.
She couldn’t fight him with magic or weapons to bring out his dark power.
He’d learned to control it too well by now.
It would have to be a battle of the heart.
She’d have to take something from him he couldn’t live without, so that he no longer cared to lose himself.
She pocketed the thought for later, brushing away any inklings of doubt as she returned to her seat on the throne. She reassured herself that she would, in due time, break Prince Asterious.
The broad-shouldered captain returned, solemn and silent, ready to accept his next assignment. “Captain.” Sinevia’s midnight voice lilted through the great room. “Send troops to burn half the crops of Misthelm. And destroy the temples. I want the message to be clear enough.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” The Captain bowed.
As he turned away, Sinevia considered how long she had been seated there, churning over her burdens as queen and her bastard brother, and decided some fresh air might help her clear her head.
Perhaps a ride to visit Daphne's grave before supper would ease her mind.
Though many of the palace horses had disappeared in the night with Asterious and the traitors who followed him, her stable remained well-stocked.
“Oh, and one more thing, Captain.” Sinevia’s perfect lips curved faintly. “Ready my horse.”
Across the hillsides she rode at a slow and steady pace to match the thoughts lingering in her head.
As she reached the field where the last few wild violets bloomed, she dismounted and picked a handful to carry to her dear friend's grave.
Memories danced like ghosts of summers spent as children weaving flower crowns in sunlit grass.
The lilacs had died out weeks ago, and the violets would soon follow. Winter would claim everything.
And so would she. She would become unstoppable.
If she couldn’t inspire loyalty, then she’d demand it through fear.
And the world feared darkness. The Shadowbloods were long extinct, and now nothing stood between her and the concentration of their power—nothing but the Woods where wild Shadows roamed.
But once she could figure out a way to get through those Woods, she could raise an army even Shadows couldn’t kill.
As she walked alongside her horse, she looked at the violets in her hand and realized she hated them. They were fragile, weak, and mocked her pain and betrayal. With a summon, a whisper of Shadow withered the life from them, and she crushed them into dust between her fingers.