Faeren Fantasies 1- Legacy

Enessa

I don't suppose I'm lucky enough for you to know my name already.
Enessa Valenta.
What a pompous bitch she was, with her fancy hair and pretty jewels.
Enessa. Ugh. It sounded like the name for a girl who would shove me around the schoolyard back when we were children.
I should have known a name like that would get me into trouble one of these days, but hey, I'm no Seer. I could not see the future any more than my sister Veralyn could.
Veralyn Valenta. She was lucky she made it past birth, with a name like that. Verval, I called her when I was learning to talk. She pinched me for the horrible nickname I inadvertently gave her.
The nickname had stuck ever since I learnt it annoyed her.
"Verval, however did I get into this mess?" I sighed wistfully to the stone ceiling above me, the gathering spores of mould beginning to droop low. I had grown up alongside that mould, it felt like. The inside of this cell has seen me so often that my imprint is left in the very walls. There's the carvings I made when I was thirteen, after my first offence- Petty thievery, nothing too serious. I took a flower from some Lord's garden to give to my sister for her birthday, and saw a night in a cell for it.
During that night, to whittle away time, I carved obscene drawings into the stone bricks along the bottom wall. After all, if I was going to be here for a while, I might as well decorate to my tastes.
On the narrow bedframe that I now laid on, there were thin notches for my age. The bedsheet, made from cotton and withering away, had little embroidered flowers sewn into it, using spare thread from the various shirts I have worn to this shithole.
The door to my cell had my name painted across the front of it, a little joke from the Guards who often dragged me down here when I was inevitably caught. They claimed that I lived here. On occasion, my mail was brought here by the town messenger, just another joke for them to fill their days with. My legacy was recorded in this filthy four-by-four cell.
But this latest scheme... Phew, what a doozy that was. I'd spent three days in here for it.
I mean, stealing from the- Footsteps emanated down the hall, the hollow 'CLUNK!', 'CLUNK!', 'CLUNK!' of wood-lined boots echoing, pausing out the front of my cell door.
I know what they will come in to ask me.
'Will you do it again?'
They know the answer, of course. Yes. But I'll look them sweetly in the eyes, with a sheepish smile, and lie through my teeth.
No, Soldier. Never again. I have learnt my lesson.
We both know it to be a lie, but they'll let me out. I would walk across Thorne in the dark, my head bent low as I passed between lanterns. On the way home, I'd swipe a loaf of bread from a market stall to toast at home. There was still butter in the fridge from my last 'shopping' trip.
I don't buy anything, not with coin. Why buy it when you can steal it for free?
The key slid into the lock with a screech, rust shavings drifting to the floor as the Guard on the other side forced it to turn, the door opening after a shove from his shoulder.
Winter was beginning to freeze the hinges, ice forming from the moisture that could constantly be found down here.
"Miss Valenta?" He called into the darkness of the cell. I lifted my head from the bed, the springs in the mattress shifting when I sat up.
"Yes?" I replied sweetly. After three days in here, I smelt like garbage and rotting hay.
A quick bath in the stream outside of town would fix that. Some food from Etta's would help fill the gap in my stomach.
"Come with us." Their voices were gruff and unamused, seeming almost remorseful. Were they that unhappy to see me go? They shouldn't have been. I'd be back in a week.
Here we go- Freedom once more. Was it night or day outside?
Would I be hurrying home, or strolling through the streets?
I made it to the doorway before spotting the shackles in their hands.
"Um... You've never had to cuff me before." My voice flooded with hesitation as I stumbled back a step, away from them and back into the safety of my cell.
"Miss Valenta, we are sorry to inform you that-" The announcement they were making faded away, replaced by a ringing in my ears of pure panic. I heard only certain words.
Law. Charges. Multitude. Crimes. Reputation. Execution.
Execution.
Execution.
I loosed a breath from between my lips, shaking my head, that final word ringing like a death knell. No, this wasn't fair! I hadn't even been the one to steal from the Queen's carriages as they passed through the area! I was just meant to be the scapegoat for the Lord who had hired me should she notice something missing! He had sworn I would be safe from punishment.
"Just a couple nights in a cell," He promised me with a purr, his eyes flashing green, "Nothing you haven't endured before."
The weight of everything sank in while the shackles were applied around my wrists.
I'd been lied to. Green-Eyes had tricked me. I was going to take the fall for this one, and in a much more permanent way than I'd expected.
The copper coin he offered me didn't seem like a fair trade.
"Can I speak to my family?" I begged when they began leading me out of the cell, my second home. Their eyes were shadowed when I looked at them. Where was Veralyn?! Had she been told I was going to die? Had she tried to bargain for me?
"Please?" Verval would starve without my help, useless as she was.
Too pretty to work, too stupid to steal, too human for Fae partners who could shower her in lavish gifts and invite her to live in an expensive Manor. I was her only shot at surviving. Her idiot embroidery wasn't going to get her anywhere, not in Thorne. This was a city of thieves and tricksters. I thrived here, like a weed in a forgotten corner of a garden.
Now someone had poured poison over me, and was waiting for me to die.
"The Queen has requested you be taken straight to the executioner. As an example to the others," the Guard said quietly. I was the only regular they arrested, and we got along, thick as thieves.
"Executioner?" My voice became a high keening, "I thought the prisoner held the right to choose how they died?" I should have been taken to the Captain of Thorne first, so I could choose my method of death! Where were the last rites I was entitled to? The final meal?
I would have picked poison as my method! Something quick and painless, like slipping away in my sleep! I didn't believe in the New Gods, but I would have picked the longest, dullest prayer I could find in their book, so by the time they were done I was begging for death.
For my final meal, I would have chosen something I would never have eaten before, like Faery Fruit, or something rare and expensive. The kind of food Verval got when she visited the Lotus Palace.
I supposed the Queen wanted to rob me of something so peaceful, just like 'I' had robbed her.
She was going to kill me over a single golden bracelet that she had never even worn!
Digging my heels into the rough stone underneath me, my shoes taken when I was checked into the cell, I gripped the final doorway fervently, fingers aching and my entire body trembling from a lack of food.
"Just let me go! Tell her Majesty you have no idea where I went! That I slipped away in the night!" I would run and never look back, if they granted me this one favour.
"Miss Valenta, we express our sympathies, but we cannot. The Queen has made it clear that she will not be stolen from." I knew the real reason behind their denial. If I escaped, they would be killed in my place.
"I didn't steal anything!" Their eyes flooded with sympathy. They already knew that, however. I had told them that I was nothing more than the scapegoat when they brought me into this place.
One of them wrestled my hands from the doorway, the two of them hoisting me off my feet and carrying me up the stairs, toward the front door. I dragged my feet every step of the way, kicking and fighting, attempting to cling onto anything that came within grasping distance of my hands. They opened the door with a loud creak.
Sunlight beamed down on me, making me squint under the heat. Around me, I heard people cheering as I was dragged out, the people of Thorne eager to see me hang. I wasn't hated, not particularly, but an execution ordered by a Royal meant a Festival the day after, where the Queen would bring food and drink around to celebrate. The Mad King himself might attend, if he had the time, or if the prisoner had been high-profile. He was in the area. He had to be, if the Holly King and the Oak Queen were out and about, but that did not mean he would come to watch. A twenty-three-year-old woman from Thorne would not be attention-grabbing enough for him to drag his ass off his throne to see me die.
From where we stood at the top of a hill overlooking the town, I got a decent, final look at all of Thorne, my fate quickly sinking into my stomach like a stone in the river.
Sprawling across fields used for farming, Thorne was a collection of mismatched streets and houses, comprised of four districts: North, East, South and West.
They were split by four walls made from stone that segmented the city, patrolled by Guards.
I lived in the West District, where those who had fallen out of grace with the ruling families went.
After all, you don't get a name like Enessa Valenta by being born a nobody.
No, that kind of name came from high-born breeding. And boy, did our family sit high in the echelons of society... Once.
My daddy was born in the North District. He was a Guard for the Lotus Palace, where the Fae Royals often came to holiday. My mother came from the North District as well. She was a Lady-In-Waiting for the Holly King, helping decide his outfits and distributing paperwork for him around the Lotus Palace.
When my parents met, they courted for only three short months before my mother became pregnant with Veralyn.
Daddy kept working in the Lotus Palace, while my mother quit her work to prepare for her new baby. Veralyn was born at the peak of winter. That alone gave her the Holly King's favour. He called Veralyn his little snowdrop.
(Mummy always was too close to the Holly King).
They had everything. A massive house, personal staff, Guards to follow Veralyn around when she tottered around the garden... I was born three years later, in the same house.
I remember a lot of my childhood. We had riding lessons, piano, violin, dancing, etiquette- We dined with Fae society. I wore dresses made by the same seamstress who dressed the King. Veralyn was decorated with jewellery from the Holly King's vaults. Nobody, not even daddy, thought that was odd.
It was the one and only time in my life that I was treated as closely to an equal as the Fae would dare to my sister, and even then, there were disparities. Verval got a personal Guard to follow her around wherever we went. He claimed he was watching the both of us, but his eyes always remained on Verval.
Verval was given the opportunity to learn a second language, one that only the Fae spoke.
I was taught my alphabet and how to count. Verval was taught spells and tonics... She got first pick of dresses, jewellery, toys...
And then it happened. The Big Change.
The Fall from Grace.
Mummy was with the Holly King on the day that daddy was dragged into the Palace throne room and forced to kneel alongside five other men. I would have been six. Verval was nine.
Verval was on the Holly King's lap, listening to one of his stories. Had I been there that day, I might have been able to stop it from happening. I might have seen or heard something that could have helped.
My sister spoke only once about what she saw- how the Holly King placed her aside for a moment, and without even rising from his chair, executed all of them with a single wave of his hand. She never said how. If he used sword, or Magic, or simply ordered someone else in that wave of his hand to kill five men. I never saw daddy's body, so my last memory of him was from that morning, when he kissed me on the forehead and told me to take care of Verval.
Remember how my mother was a little too close to the Holly King? Yeah, well Verval was also the only one who did not have 'traitor's blood', according to the Holly King. I got kicked out of the family tree. Verval got to remain for a bit longer.
Some people say mummy jumped from the balcony that night. I had a feeling he pushed her.
Once she was dead, Verval and I were tossed from the North District to the West. The Holly King only dragged his daughter into the Lotus Palace if there was a big event, or if the High King was nearby. After all, the Mad High King was new to his throne, and only twenty-five. A year younger than Verval.
My sister was pretty, but a life in the West District had hardened her far too much for the Mad King to enjoy. It brought out an extra level of cruelty in the Fae side of her. She was once the King's snowdrop. Now she was the thorn that grew in Thorne.
I was the weed that lived underneath her, pushing her roots and tangling up her stem.
The Holly King wanted to get rid of me. That would be the only way the Oak Queen was allowed to order an execution in his jurisdiction, and get away with it. They were bitter rivals, but the Holly King hated me a lot more than he hated the Queen.
"Miss Valenta."
I peeled my eyes away from Thorne, glittering in the midday sun, to look at the Guard standing to my right. His face was pinched and drawn, like he had been sucking on a particularly sour lemon. I offered a weak half-smile that was more to reassure me than it was for him, sighing sarcastically, "Hopefully she picked a clean method. Long live the Queen."