The Divine Violence

Chapter 8

Chapter written by: Charlotte

~~~

Dominique's POV

Dominique was distracted.

Ever since the King had made his announcement to abdicate the throne to his eldest daughter, Dominique's mind had been buzzing and whirling with complications, and new plans that had to be made - new protocols to be enforced. She would have to tweak her revenge plan a bit, re-designing routes and re-scheduling days to send their 'messages' to fit in with the new monarch's schedule.

In short, this announcement threw off both Dominique and her plan, leaving her annoyed and off balance.

But what really distracted Dominique the most was seeing Princess Aliyah enter the ballroom, clad in black and unafraid. She looked solemn, as if she knew the entire weight of the kingdom was about to be placed on her shoulders. But she seemed braced for it, for the burden, for the pain, for the suffering to come.

Dominique would rather die than admit it, but she found that Princess Aliyah's determination was rather admirable - in an entirely objective way of course. She was still planning to kill her and her precious little royal family. Dominique was ultimately going to slaughter them all - so why did she find herself staring at the Princess every five minutes? Why did her gaze wander to her so often?

Dominique blinked, took a deep breath, and then pushed the thought out of her mind. It didn't matter, after all, tonight her target was not Princess Aliyah. Her mission was to be a fabulous distraction, a wonderful little treasure to distract the court with. Her job was to find a little nobleman prick, and send him off to his death. Tonight, Dominique was expected to be a siren, and she was not about to fail.

She smiled, tossing her faux cream curls over one shoulder as a nobleman approached her. He asked for a dance, and Dominique, or rather Valerie, obliged him. That dance turned into another, which turned into another and another. She switched partners often, being swept up into another waltz by greedy hands and leering gazes.

"What a lovely dress that is," A pudgy man remarked during a swell in the music, " I quite like the color." But he was looking too low and holding her waist too tight. It didn't feel like a compliment, it felt like being caged.

Again and again, Dominique batted her eye lashes and remarked about the 'oh so pleasant' weather. Again and again she was pulled onto the ballroom floor, all hands and hot breath, awkward compliments and searching questions.

"Are you married yet? Engaged?"

"Who is your father? What of his wealth?"

"Has a fine lady such as yourself been spoken for yet? What of a dowry?"

Dominique did her best to answer and smile, to step and waltz, to spin and enchant. But out of the corner of her eye, she kept seeing Princess Aliyah, caught in a dance just like she was. Inexplicably, Dominique found herself wondering if the Princess felt as trapped as she did. Snared in a web of tulle, barred by an onslaught of noblemen and wandering eyes.

Dominique could feel her anxiety begin to build along with the music, slowly breaking down her charismatic mask. She was usually so good at this type of deception, so what was going wrong now? Why was she so preoccupied?

And Saints, why was Princess Aliyah looking at her like that? Like some puzzle to be solved, a wine to be sampled?

Eventually, Dominique was saved by the same nobleman who had talked to her in the crowd before - the one dressed in emerald and full of intrigue.

"Well well, it seems we meet again," the nobleman remarked slyly, guiding her off the dance floor and into a corner by the refreshments.

Quite frankly, Dominique wanted to slap the cocky bastard on the face, but alas, that would've drawn unwanted attention to herself. Instead, she grinned politely. "Indeed we have. Thank you for saving me from that last waltz, I fear I may have accepted too many partner's requests."

The man smiled wolfishly, "An easy mistake to make. You seem to be a rather sought-after lady tonight, and I doubt any man could refuse an offer to dance with you," he said playfully, another question hidden in his tone.

Dominique ignored it, countering with a question of her own. "I suppose that's true, Mr. -" she paused, "oh wait! That's right, I still don't know your name," she whispered, an edge appearing to her voice that had not been there before.

The man blinked, then returned her forced smile. "I suppose that's fair, I have been awfully cryptic tonight, haven't I?"

"Just a tad, but not in any ill-manner way of course."

"Right."

"Of course."

"Well then, perhaps I'll tell you my name after -" the man stopped, looking at something behind Dominique. She raised her eyebrow questioningly, and after a moment, she turned around to see Princess Aliyah herself waiting behind her, patient, but expectant.

"Well, perhaps we can continue our conversation another time, Lady Valerie," the mystery courtier said, vanishing back into the crowd.

"Oh," Dominique said in surprise. After a moment, she quickly curtsied, almost forgetting the stupid gesture. "Your highness, it's a pleasure to be in your presence." The words sat like fire on her tongue, burning and fueled by something bitter.

The Princess - no. The future Queen nodded, calmly staring at Dominique.

"Miss, would you mind being my dance partner for the next song?" Aliyah asked.

Dominique smiled in that soft, theatrically flattered way. As if to say "Saints! You want to dance with a nobody such as myself? Gee! I must be the luckiest girl in all of Eldom!"

Beneath her gentle smile, coy stare, and layer of faux bush, Dominique felt rage start to bubble up and fume within her chest, pressing up against the layers of her skin as if about to burst.

This was the girl that was about to inherit all of this disgusting wealth. The kingdom that had never done anything for Dominique except hurt her time and time again was soon to placed under this girl's care - soon to be trapped under her thumb, just like it had been under her disgusting father's. Her father was a monster after all - so why wouldn't she be the same?

But there, stewing in the pit of her stomach, was something else. It was not quite anger, but something far stranger - a pang of an emotion almost bittersweet ignited at the sight of Aliyah. Dominique promptly squished it down to the very depths of her heart, suffocating it until all thoughts of the feeling asphyxiated.

It was time to get herself together, to gather up her mask and be a perfect little distraction.

Dominique giggled, smoothly gliding her hands over Aliyah's fingers, and then traveling down to her waist to take the leading position.

"Why," she began, leaning close to Aliyah's ear, "I'd absolutely love to dance with you," Dominique whispered, her exhale brushing the shell of the Princess's ear.

The music then began to pick up, swelling in waves of notes and strings, building slowly to an orchestral climax. Dominique gracefully spun Aliyah with her arm outstretched before pulling the young heiress back into her chest, almost in an embrace. For a moment, Dominique was breathless, the staccato pulses of the violas perfectly in tune with the rhythm of her beating heart.

"My name is Valerie. Valerie Morgenstair," Dominique breathed, catching her breath for only a split second before flashing Aliyah a conspiratorial smirk.

"Of course, I already know who you are," she said, grinning as she pulled the princess into another spin.

​​​​​​​Ah yes. I know you all too well.