Chapter 3 The Pit
The Pit
The beat of the drums carried a daunting, hypnotic tone through the open air coliseum, and the fear of my people wrapped around me as I entered the tunnel. With a deep inhale, I let their potent emotions wash over me—moments like this were when I felt truly alive.
As much as I loved hosting executions in my throne room, there was something electric about the ones that occurred here.
Since the Pit lay on the outskirts of my palace grounds it was a bit of a walk, but I didn’t mind as long as I got to see an entertaining show starring a traitor meeting their rightful fate: death by the Serpent Queen’s hand.
Torches lined the arena, and a cool breeze licked up my spine, courtesy of my open-back gown that dipped into a scandalously low V-cut.
Gold serpent chained straps rattled against my bare back, while a black velvet train trailed behind me.
My dress was sensual, alluring—fit for a non-traditional queen like me.
My scalp tingled from my people watching my every move.
They were nearly about to break their own necks as I gave them a full view of my exposed back.
I flicked my braid over my shoulder, feeling the tips of my hair brushing against my waist. My revealing gown left parts of my tattoo on full display—an unsavory reminder I, too, had to see everyday.
The dark ink was to ensure he never strayed from my mind, so I would never forget the day he permanently marked me.
Fury latched onto me like a beast with thrashing claws as I thought of the serpent tattoo coiling around half of my body, but I refused to wear hideous, modest gowns just to cover it up.
I always loved over-the-top, sultry attire, and I wasn’t going to change that because of the king I despised.
Let my people see what I’ve sacrificed to sit on the throne.
As I approached the steps leading to the royal balcony, a set of frosty, blue eyes greeted me.
“My Queen, you look absolutely ravishing tonight.” Landon offered me his hand, helping me up the first step.
The stairs weren’t wide enough for the two of us, making our bodies press together.
My bodyguard’s eyes roamed over my figure, but I proceeded past him.
He should know by now that I liked to tease.
My bodyguard sharply inhaled as I gave him a grand view of the back of my dress, causing me to cast a devious smile over my shoulder at him.
Just as expected, his eyes were glued to my bare skin, slowly trailing over my ample curves.
Landon sucked his lip between his teeth, finally bringing his eyes to meet mine as he climbed up a step, closing the distance between us.
“I’m starving . . . are you?” A wicked glint shined in his eyes, causing a thrill to sweep down my spine.
“I am.” I leaned in closer, allowing the shadows of the alcove to conceal the subtle brush of my lips against the curve of his ear. “I’m starving . . . for the bitter taste of blood.”
When I pulled back, there were no longer any hints of heat blazing in Landon’s eyes.
“Well then, I won’t keep you from your favorite activity, my Queen.” With a quick nod, he turned and descended the remaining steps, assuming his regular position of guarding the entrance to my private balcony.
Without sparing my bodyguard another thought, I spun on my heel, gripping the velvet of my dress between my hands while I ascended the black stone steps. The long train made my pace slow, but my people had nowhere else to be.
Considering their death could be the source of tonight’s entertainment, they were beyond lucky to be summoned only as attendees. Besides, my executions were far grander than any measly amusement they’d enjoy in the city.
The Queendom of Phantamos was not a place of revelry and joy.
My queendom was one soaked in rivers of blood and the screams of the tortured.
Finally, I cleared the steps and let the familiar sound of my heels clacking against the stone ready me for tonight’s festivities. Glancing out at the crowd, I was pleased to see how packed the coliseum was tonight—not a spare seat in sight.
Looks like my display the other night made a clear statement.
A victorious smirk spread along my lips as the drums concluded their battle cry. On the final sharp crescendo, I assumed my position on the throne. The cool black marble kissed my bare back, and for a moment I was transported to what felt like another life . . .
“You’re so fucking beautiful with your hair like this.” He dragged his cool fingers down my neck, leaving a pathway of goosebumps to break across my skin.
I dragged a blood-red nail over the serpents carved into the armrests, letting the memories that frequently haunted me fade into the darkest corners of my mind.
The audience’s nervous chatter ceased when my twin serpents hissed, alerting they were drawing near from where they perpetually rested—which, on most days, was in my chambers beside a roaring fire.
With just a thought, Ember and Dante appeared at my side. Their bodies spiraled down my arms as their heads hung over the two gnarled branches that made up my crown.
“Welcome to tonight’s execution! I hope you all enjoy the show.” I raised my arms in a grand gesture. My lips twisted into a sinister smile, while Ember and Dante hissed with excitement at the thought of the bloodshed looming on the horizon.
“Bring in the traitor.” I clapped twice, prompting two of my guards to appear with tonight's victim in tow.
Their strong grips tightened around the traitor’s biceps as they led her through the dark tunnel and into the cool night air.
One could hear a pin drop with how silent it was, leaving only the shuffling of my prisoner’s boots to ring throughout the arena.
Her hair was long on the top, leaving the sides shorter to reveal a flame carved within the black stubble.
My guards led her straight to the edge of the Pit, where no railing separated her from the vicious snakes lurking in the darkness below.
The woman seemed unphased by her imminent death, not even an ounce of fear seeping off her skin.
Her stern gaze shot to mine, the vast rectangular pit was the only thing standing between us.
My voice boomed through the stadium. “State your name.”
“Meredith.” The woman’s jaw ticked, and my curiosity rose as the smell of her anger floated toward me.
Not my preferred emotion to consume, but it would do for the time being.
“Meredith, you have broken not one but two of your Queen’s commandments, yet you stand before me festering in a cloud of anger. Are you angry with yourself for committing such a horrible act of treason?”
The woman’s scoff rang through the arena as her eyes rolled skyward.
Fury shot through me, but I gripped the armrests of my throne to hide the only emotion I could feel for the past eight decades.
My knuckles turned bone white as I sucked in a small breath, grasping the reigns on my never-ending rage.
There was nothing I hated more than when my people broke any of my commandments, but there was a reason commandment number one was, ‘Thou shalt not disrespect thy Queen.’
I did not tolerate disrespect well.
“Correction, make that three broken commandments.” I flaunted three fingers at the crowd.
“I am already sentenced to death. Why should I care to follow your commandments?” She pointed a finger at me, and the audience collectively inhaled a sharp breath.
“You are a pathetic excuse for a queen. The only person you protect is yourself—you don’t give a damn about the wellbeing of your people.
You wrecked our lands decades ago, and you still continue to be a plague to our kingdom.
” She spit into the Pit, eliciting a multitude of angry hisses from the hungry serpents.
The audience gasped at her brave, yet foolish words.
I hid my slight irritation at her blatant disregard for my queendom by glancing at my people and pulling in a deep breath to assess the tone in the coliseum.
For the most part, fear remained as the prevalent emotion, yet I smelt a new note that swiftly flourished throughout the audience like a tidal wave.
My lip curled at the fresh smell of a floral bouquet . . . it smelled a lot like hope.
Well, that just won’t do.
With a crack of my neck, I barked at my guard on her left. “Felix, shut her up.”
I watched my guard’s tied-back black hair swish behind him while he backhanded the traitor. The sound echoed off the stone walls, along with muffled sobs issuing from the front row.
My gaze shot to the woman crying into a gray handkerchief.
I glanced between the older woman and Meredith, the latter’s cheek stained with an angry red handprint.
The resemblance was apparent, and I smiled when I realized the traitor’s mother was here to watch her daughter’s execution.
However, curiosity creeped through me as she continued to weep when Felix slapped Meredith again, making her neck harshly whip to the side.
The smell of fresh rainfall reeked from the woman—her sorrow was overwhelming. It was a rather foreign experience for me to witness a mother care about their daughter with such a ferocious intensity.
Another splitting crack drew my attention back to tonight’s entertainment, but my lips swiftly pinched into a pout when I noticed Meredith didn’t cry out once in pain.
“That’s enough, Felix.” I held up my hand, and my guard roughly grabbed the woman by her arm, forcing her to face me.
“Meredith, I hereby sentence you to death, for not only breaking three of my commandments, including conspiring to overthrow your Queen, but also due to your continuous lack of remorse and respect. For these reasons, we will be doing things a bit differently this evening.”
The traitor’s brows furrowed, and my snakes’ delighted hissing wrapped around me as they realized what I was thinking.
“Felix, would you do me a favor and wake up Vesper?” I cooed.