The raven-haired queen raised a single brow, her long, slender fingers topped with pointed, pristine nails tapping against the handle of her golden throne.

"What did you say?" She took her time caressing each syllable with the sharpness of a dagger about to swipe out, a quiet voice from a small and slender woman that could be heard from everyone in the room.

"I-I apologize s-sinscerely to Her Upmost Radiant Majesty. This lowly servant h-has committed a grave sin. I g-gladly offer up my life to Her Radiance, if it so quells her anger." The poor page was sprawling on the floor, even the large feather on his hat dragging on the ground.

The queen raised her brows and picked at her nails. The air of the throne room seemed to get even colder. Even the guards who had nothing but to stand still by her majesty's side all day were at their wits end. Every soul in the room prayed day in and day out by now, that the king they once feared and criticized would someday soon return to that empty seat besides the queen. Anything was better than this crazy woman.

"I asked you..." the Queen spoke, somehow colder than she'd been before, "to repeat yourself, page."

The page's scared breathing could almost be heard from up those many many steps of the throne alter.

"T-this page is unworthy of his station!! He begs her majesty the queen's mercy! If this lowly servant could possibly be graced with her majesty's mercy, he only asks that his family—"

"Speak." She crosses her legs, tilting her head back as if daring the page to say another word, even though she had just commanded him to do just that. Nobody else in the room would have taken all the riches in the country to be in that page's place right now, under her majesty's unreadable gaze.

But secretly, beyond that veil of apathy and anger, the person who called herself Queen was actually taking a perverse type of amusement in this situation. She took it upon herself to put one of her subjects in this position on the daily, as a matter of fact.

There wasn't much else to amuse oneself with, as an evil queen in this closed up castle, with a dying husband. Not that she hadn't been the one to poison him in the first place. But it wasn't like a sane person could actually have friends, in this crazy world of hers. Even if she hadn't done it, even her so called husband that she hadn't even spent her wedding night with was just another trashy person to join the junkyard of society. Another fellow villain to watch her back against.

She needed her daily dose of crushing the light in someone's eyes beneath her point-toed leather shoes to to make it through the day, you see? One would empathize with the queen if they truly knew what she's been through. Agh.. everything else was work, work work.

It wasn't that she actually hurt anyone, anyways.

"Y-your majesty...."

Ah, she'd nearly forgotten the page was there. He seemed to be on the verge of crying. Whoever had allowed such a spineless sight to enter her field of vision? She could feel some dry skin coming along, just watching the ugly thing stare wide eyed at the floor and open and close it's mouth like a fish.

SNAP, the flicked her fingers and pointed.

"Guards."

"Ah-Ah!!" The page cried out as he was yanked up and dragged away. "Her majesty!! Her majesty—I—I can say- the prophecy—"

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

SNAP.

The guards stopped mid-dragging the poor man, who immediately fell to his knees and crawled towards the middle of the floor, his hands clasped together. "Her Majesty...Her Majesty.. her... yes..." he bowed on the floor again, holding his hands in in prayer... or plea? It was hard to tell, but from the Queen's perspective not even a god could save him if he said her name one more time.

"Her... the most loyally pledged senior historians.." That was close, "... that have been working on decoding a relic of this nation's ancient temple—their representative was here to have me tell Her Majesty, only out of good will of the organization towards the crown, that they believe they may have decoded what seems to be what their research has pointed to being an ancient prophecy that at the moment seems to suggest—"

She sighed, causing the page to hiccup.

"—treason!" He cried. "Of a sainte—a -a witch with an immense amount of magical power, who poses a direct threat to the crown— Our sources loyal to the crown believe—the temple has this named individual...and is plotting t-treason—to use this to ignite the flames of r-revolution, my Queen! To stir a civil war in the country!"

CLAP. The queen dropped her hand. "Is that all?"

"Th-th-no, my queen." He groveled once again. "Y..n...ye...Your sources would a-also like to inform you, they believe have located the location of this prophesized individual, w-within a lowly guarded facility under the temple's jurisdiction."

SNAP. The queen gestured for her Right Hand to come forth. "Hand of the Crown, haven't I..." she gestured vaguely "*squashed*... these unsightly bugs called the temple and their high ranking officials several times before?"

Her Hand Bowed. "Yes. You have, my Queen, many times. They are like cockroaches, we dispose of their leaders, and as many more spawn in their place."

"You heard him." SNAP.

A servant came forth with a hot towel. which the queen dabbed against her cheeks, then discarded.

"Hand. Have the wench killed one way or another, but not before she confesses. Have her drink poisoned wine. It should be an honor for her to take part in my tradition, hohoho! I *enjoy* the velvety image of having all my foes I've ever had killed ended with poisoned wine."

"It's a child—" the page blurted out. Instead of having him killed on the spot as he imagined, however, the queen simply tilted her head, lost in thought.

"Hmm... A teenager? Old enough to *want* to experiment with wine?" She jestured as she spoke.

"A child. T-the sources say, plucked fresh from an orphanage under the temple's jurisdiction."

"Hm..." She snapped her fingers as she turned to her hand. "Guards. I want this page out."

The poor man went white, but didn't dare mutter a sound as he was promptly grabbed up by two guards and carried out. He would only be escorted to the gates, but the queen let him wonder if it was the dungeons or execution.The edge of her mouth almost tipped upwards before settling back down.

"Hand."

Her hand bowed.

"I want you to enlist a band of several extremely skilled, covert knights that will storm the building immediately. Kill anyone who gets in your way, and have the brat brought before me."

"Yes, Her Radiance." The hand bowed and made his way into the shadows of the curtains and towards the door.

"Hand."

The hand stopped where he stood, turning around with a hand across his chest. "My queen."

The Queen throught about it. "Except the children—we don't know if our sources could be wrong. We mustn't kill the chosen one senselessly after all, there may still be much time to make do with it at our own needs, and undo any brainwashing on that drafted temples side....Ah. But I don't care if you give them some haircuts or make them cry, yes. Do take note to make it especially traumatizing to have their housemate dragged away and their caretakers slaughtered if any children get in your way" she smirked. "But don't *physically* harm any children."

Her hand bowed, and made his way off.

The queen stretched and yawned in the privacy of just her guards and servants, now. "I'm hungry," she yawn-spoke to herself, and a maid went sprinting immediately towards the door, as another hurried to her side with a waiting basket of perfectly sour blackberries as she waited, just as she liked them.

"Ah, that reminds me. Guard."

A guard slammed his sword against the ground in obedient response.

"Have the knights secure the castle. I don't want a single person coming in or out of my castle until that troublesome brat is brought in front of me, and this entire matter is cleared up." She popped a few blackberries into her mouth.

The guard bowed, then quickly made his way out.