The sun was fighting against the cold winter clouds.
The sky had played its tune; it was colder and mockingly gray. The reflection of the shyest sun in the world forced people to shut their eyes half-way. With such limited vision, it was no wonder that they couldn’t see as far as the royal castle. Those inside it painted a different picture. So many things were happening in the grand hall they couldn’t help but fight against the evil yellow sphere that tried to spoil their amusement through half-shut windows. Maria Hunster, the traitor, the beloved queen, the ex-queen, was kneeling on the marble, the entrance of her ex-castle to her right. In her reflection on the floor, she could see the cold breeze that bothered her hair and clothes every time someone walked inside. Her hands were unnecessarily tied on her back. She tried not to look around in hope of seeing her daughter but failed every few seconds.
To live and die in glory seemed a distant dream, a fate that only existed in lullabies. Maria was dressed in a light, purple dress to prevent the fabric from somehow, anyhow, protecting the one wearing it. She was glory herself, surrounded by hounds her daughter mistook for mice.
The plan was simple: an unnecessary interrogation followed by the Queen of Crystalia cutting off her mother’s head. There would be a banquet afterwards. Maria pictured the dining room swarming with porcine faces and porcelain teeth. She pictured her daughter standing in the shade with Thomas Hammer rambling on an on about anything, like he was at that very moment. But Diane only stared at the rope around her mother’s wrists; it was so thin the ex-queen could have broken free herself, if she only decided to move her arms a little. But they knew she wouldn’t. They also knew that if she did, they would all be dead; Diane Hunster would paint the walls of the grand hall red to silence all the ghosts who told her to listen well.
“I mean,” Thomas whispered and looked around him to make sure no one would catch a glimpse of the shape of his lips, “why would Void get rid of her like this? Weren’t they allies?”
Diane flinched, “No, they were not. My mother was only… using him to keep me safe.” Then she sighed. “I don’t know, Thomas. I don’t know anything. I guess He reconciled with the Judge or something. And before you ask, I have no clue why they changed the plan in the first place. I don’t know what I should do about the Judge either.”
Thomas scratch his head. “But if they reconciled, doesn’t that mean that our mission isn’t valid anymore?”
“I told you I don’t know.”
“All of this is too strange. If the plan was really changed as they told you, why would they want you to get the will then?” Then his eyes lit up. “Hm, I see. It could be that they wanted to keep it away from the Demons so they wouldn’t have proof of their origin.”
“Don’t you think that’s a bit of a reach? They would have told me if that was the case.”
“At this point, I don’t think anything is a reach. I mean, you’re about to cut your mother’s head off and then go to eat pork in vine sauce.”
“Please, stop talking.”
Once the last person of importance arrived, a man in red appeared before Maria. He had a pen in one hand and a piece of paper and a book in the other. His feet were positioned so his toes faced outwards. Maria was horrified by his skinny legs and big head.
He cleared his throat and asked: “Your name is Maria Hunster, the ex-Queen of Crystalia?”
“Indeed,” she answered confidently.
“Yes, or no, please,” he said so quickly that the high pitch of his voice made the sentence almost unintelligible.
“Yes,” Maria answered, amused by the absurdity of her situation.
“You have aided organized attacks on Crystalia orchestrated by the D-D-D… the D… ah… the Deimons?”
“No,” she answered with a smile, “I have helped no Deimons.”
Chatter and surprise echoed through the room. The man got as red as his gown.
“Yes, or no, please,” he yelled a little. “You remember that lying is a direct crime against your daughter’s crown, no?”
“That was unnecessary.”
“Yes, or no, please,” he talked over her.
“Yes.”
“Very well,” he nodded victoriously. “In that case, let me ask again: have you aided organized attacks on Crystalia orchestrated by the Demons?”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
“Yes.”
“Two times?”
“Once.”
“Yes, or no.”
“No ‘please’ this time?” He looked at Maria sternly. She loved making him lose his patience. “Can’t you just kill me already?”
“Yes. Or. No.”
“No,” she answered with a sigh.
“Elaborate, please,” the man urged to the amusement of the crowd. “Single sentence, please.”
“I have aided them in the sense that I provided them with a Raven to open the portal on the night of the Grand Ball,” Maria recited as she had been told.
The word ‘Raven’ spread like wildfire. Maria did not, at that moment, think of the association it would have with her daughter. It was the first thing on their minds, though. But Diane seemed unfazed; it was a lie anyway. The Raven did it by herself, the mother only told stories. But the Judge made it seem like it was Maria who was behind the attacks, presumably to get back at the ex-queen for making a fool of her. And it didn’t hurt to remind the new queen where the line was. Diane glanced at Thomas; now that her mother was dead, there was no one left by her side.
“Are you alright?” he whispered. “Are you cold?”
She was focused on the fringes on his coat. “I’m alright.”
“Nothing more?” the high-pitched voice interrupted Diane’s thoughts.
“No,” the ex-queen answered.
The clock went on ticking without Diane.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
The man squeezed his lips together to hide a smile. “That is contrary to my knowledge.”
“What knowledge?” Maria’s question got lost in the crowd of whispers.
“It has come to my attention,” the man said like a command, “that you have hindered the acquiring of a certain will?”
“What will? And how do you know about that anyway?”
“A little dove told me.”
Diane was suddenly brought back. In the room, in the time, in the conversation. She saw her mother staring at her. Instead of jumping in and losing her crown and freedom (that voice was itching the dagger hidden under her dress), she went back to daydreaming. It was the Judge who was sending her regards to a mother of a daughter. And she had nothing to do with her. Her mother had nothing to do with her. Thomas Hammer nudged Diane when he thought she was falling asleep. He was well aware that, but for her self-control, that December 15th would have been a mass execution. It was universally acknowledged that doves are bloody beasts. This one was no different.
“I’ll do it,” he whispered.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she bit back, eyes fixed on her mother.
Thomas pulled her arm slightly. “I said I’ll do it.”
“Thomas…”
“Now, yes, or no, please.” The man in red was openly smiling now, showing his charcoal teeth.
“To hell with yes or no!”
This protest, cry, yell, made Diane react. She went cold and pale and clapped with all her might. “Alright!”
Everyone, even those who had been standing next to her unbothered, fell on their knees with their arms spread out before them, as if praying. She stepped on a few coats and dresses as she approached the main attraction. The man in red looked down at her.
“Let’s get this over with,” she told him and pointed to the sword he was supposed to ceremonially give her; it was gold with huge colored diamonds. “Give it to me.”
“With all due respect, Your Majesty…”
“I told you to give to me,” she cut him off, so filled with tension her voice echoed in her head.
“As I was trying to tell you…”
Diane grabbed his collar with so much force he started flapping around like a duck. Gasps and protests echoed through the room and a few guards made their way towards the queen. “”Give. Me. The. Sword.”
The man lowered his head. “In your dreams, Dove.”
If he wasn’t so focused on looking down at her, he would have noticed her fist become yellow; her furious face was the last thing he saw instead. Diane’s fist completely shattered his skull, spilling his brains alover the entrance hall of her castle. Her eyes were filled with nothing but rage as she made eye contact with the guards, all of which froze in their places as the river of blood reached their feet. When she bent down to steal the sword from the corpse, a warm hand pushed her to the right with such strength she fell in the pool of blood.
When Thomas was a few centimeters away from Maria with the gold in his hand, she said softly: “Take the necklace.” It drew Thomas’s attention to the slim rope around her neck. “To remember your queen.”
The innocent eyes and holy smile turned Thomas into a sweaty canvas. She made him lose control and instantly swing, slicing right through the flesh, bone, and liquid. There were sounds and colors he instantly forgot. A royal head was next to his feet; it reminded him of the games he used to play when he was a child. He could suddenly recall his mother’s muffins and the mist-colored grass; it was the smell of spring. Now he smelled a few undigested breakfasts. And blood. Lots of blood everywhere. On his feet, on Diane’s face. In George’s eyes. He turned around to looked at Diane again. She was green now. And standing close to him.
“Don’t talk,” she whispered, in a trance. “I will clean it up.”
Everyone was rushing and pushing. Pushing him, tying him up and… Diane was looking at him. She said something and he was free. Thomas turned towards the ex-ex-queen. People were jumping over her dead body, collecting her blood on their soles. Diane was only staring at him; she looked a better corps than her mother. And just like that it was over. Thinking of how easily we perish made Thomas’s skin crawl. She would, at least, be remembered. Then he heard Isaac’s voice. There seemed to be people with him. Women. Two of them, with gray hair. Thomas couldn’t recognize them even though he had met them before. One of them was screaming, the other looking at Diane and him. Elaine smiled. Upon seeing it, Thomas started emptying his guts. It made her smile even more.
his guts. It made her smile even more.