Pitch bolted upright in bed.
With her pulse pounding in her ears, she looked around her bedroom. The rosy light of sunset streamed through the windows, even though it had been after midnight when she had fallen asleep— she had been unconscious for a full day, or perhaps more than one.
She spotted her stone gauntlet on top of a dresser, and scrambled to put it on.
Pitch dashed out of her room and ran downstairs as fast as her legs could carry her, losing her slippers along the way. For the first few moments, her mind was filled with nothing but pure, unbridled panic, so much so that she didn’t even know where she was running to.
Eventually, she remembered how to use her voice. “…Azor!!” she cried out. “Where are you; come out where I can see you! Or tell me where you are and I’ll find you, please!!”
“…I think it’s far too late for that now, Margaret.”
Pitch skidded to a stop before the great hall. She took a few steps closer to the doorway, and found her stepmother standing inside, facing one of the windows. She wore a long, shimmering gown of midnight blue, with a matching veil over her face.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“…You,” Pitch said, in a voice that felt like it was not her own. “What have you done…?!”
The Queen sighed. “…I had you drink that tea because I knew you would only get upset if I tried to discuss it with you,” she said. “And now you want me to try and explain when you’re already in hysterics?”
“If you think I’m hysterical now, just wait until I figure out where you hid my weapons…!!”
“I didn’t ‘hide’ them anywhere. I suggested we put them in storage, and you agreed…because you trusted me.”
“THAT TIME IS OVER!!”
Pitch stepped forward, her gauntlet already encasing her left hand in stone. “Now tell me what you’ve done with him, before I have to beat it out of you!!”
The Queen turned to face her. “…You know, I was expecting you to assume that I had tried to murder you again,” she said. “I don’t know how you figured out so quickly that you weren’t the real target…someone must have told you of my plans.”
“That’s beside the point; you still haven’t explained yourself!! Maybe you don’t realize that I’m doing you a favor by allowing you to speak at all…!”
“No, you aren’t…if I don’t tell you what happened, you may never see your little friend again. You certainly won’t be able to find him in time to save him, assuming he’s still alive…in other words, your threats are empty, because I still have the upper hand.”
The Queen lifted her veil.
The left side of her face was covered in deep crimson blotches, as if every tiny capillary under the skin had burst simultaneously. Even her left eye was bloodshot, as solidly red as a cherry tomato.
“…So why don’t you take a moment to compose yourself, and when you’re ready to behave like a proper young lady, I will give you the explanation you so desire,” the Queen finished.