𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒 | 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘯

➥ ravenna; superior

"You're bleeding on my carpet." She sneers, as if I can't feel the blood seeping through my reddened chainmail.

"I apologise my queen." I say back, gritting my teeth in pain as I try to lessen the blood flow. If she had medics in the castle then I wouldn't be bleeding on this luxurious purple carpet. The shades darken and the gold patterning turns a reddish brown. I am going to become the laughing stock of the royal guard. As if I'm not already.

"Watch your tone. It's fortunate I spared you. Your sister was not so lucky." She again spits, using my status - or rather lack of, to her advantage. I hold my tongue with difficulty, the vulgar language of a farmer's daughter threatening to roll from my tongue as easily as my eyes do into the back of my head in a drunken state. The guards take advantage of the only woman in their team as often as possible. It's why I'm known as the palace 'whore'. It's why Queen Ravenna hates me with an undying passion.

I avert my eyes and bow my head as blood, the same colour as the finest of red wines, slips through my gauntleted fingers. Wine would be good right now. I groan as a loose piece of chain stabs into the open wound taking small pieces of fabric with it. "Shut up." She snaps, pacing the room.

"Ye-Yes My Queen." I breathe out, pain blurs my vision..The room spins and i feel as though I'm atop a horse which gallops at full speed. The chainmail I'm draped in feels as though it was freshly made - iron still as bright as the embers used to mould it, and placed on my body. My body tingles but I feel nothing as I try to stay conscious. My head thuds on the table leg as I slip into a sleep.

When I wake up, my ribs are throbbing dully, a nice change from yesterday. The chainmail that felt as if it burned my skin has been removed and hair (which was a wild mess from the adventure through the woods) lays in a neat plait on my neck. There's no one in this castle who could have possibly plaited my hair other than...no.

She's my superior, she would do no such thing. A guard I'm familiar with walks in and shoots me a shit eating grin. I probably fucked him at some point. "Oh won't Her Majesty be pleased to know you're awake." He says, sauntering from the room.

I fling my legs over the side of the bed and pull on my clothes, leaving my hair as it is. It's been a while since it looked so...clean. I slip my chainmail armour atop the only silk tunic I own and collect my gauntlets. I'm about to slide them on when Her Majesty flies through the door. She locks it behind her and sits on the chair adjacent to me.

"How are you feeling?" She grimaces at her own question. It sounds wrong coming from her entitled, kissable lips. The whole concept is inappropriate and unprofessional. I mentally scold myself.

"Ready for action, My Queen." I give the standard answer. The one drilled into us during early hours of the morning, right before sparring drills.

"You'll be staying as my personal guard for a while."

"Thank you my Queen." I say, relaying the answer we were reprimanded time and time again for until we remembered it.

"As your superior I order you to hand me your gauntlets." I hand them over. She runs her hands along the metal, admiring the dents and scratches. Something about the way she looks at them makes my stomach flip. "Your hands are rather large compared to mine." She comments, slipping the cold metal onto my outstretched hand.

It's done so gently and tentatively that I almost forget the way she tore out my sister's heart with the same hands.

I catch myself and remember she's my superior.
And that is all.