The Royal Curse

Thirty - Midnight Black Hair and Blue Eyes

Valarya de Mertaire

According to Rysdan, I shouldn't strangle Diyra. Under these conditions, however, Rysdan's advice went one ear and out the other. As I shoved the double glass doors opened, I shouted, "Diyra!"

Leather-bound men and women spun to face me. Although it was fairly obvious I wasn't liked in Valenciya, the fact they held iron-rods with obsidian tips reaffirmed that belief. Diyra stood in a pool of water that surround the dais. On the throne perched a woman who couldn't have been older than my mother.

"How could you tell the Entorrean media?" I shouted across the room, stepping across the rocks. Rysdan stayed back, observing to make sure nothing happened to me. Not that he would be capable of stopping anything. "Answer me."

"I did as you requested," she spoke calmly, peering down at a woman who spooned water onto her son.

"I did not want the entire world to know about this. I simply wanted to get off Valenciya."

"That," the woman on the throne spoke, "would not happen. And Diyra is correct: she did what you told her. She told me. Isn't that what you wanted?" Her angular face cocked to the left, braids of dark hair falling in sync. "Say 'thank you'."

"You must be the queen." I was unfamiliar with who she was. When I was in the palace, the queen was Fiora, but she died, causing a wave of fighting to ensue to find the next monarch. Unfortunately, I couldn't find out who the next monarch was due to being absent from the palace. It was surprising, however, to not have heard about it from civilians. Valenciya's monarch scramble always becomes a worldwide spectacle since their system didn't follow by birthright, but by whoever wins the popular support of the people. And that involved a lot of killing. How many people did she kill to get on that throne? "And why the hell would I thank you? Riots are breaking out all over Entorre. People want Ashe dead—"

"But you found where he was, correct? You wouldn't have known had news of your location not reached him." So she was audacious as well as a smartass.

"How dare you," I muttered, gathering more of this ridiculous dress into my hand. "You had no right to leak that information to the media. He could've died."

"He's not dead, Valarya," she said, annoyance laced in every word. "In fact, I did you a favor. Prince Kace is protecting him. If Ashe dies, Kace would personally avenge him for you." She propped her arm on the arm of the throne and laid her chin on her hand. "Are your concerns mitigated now?"

"You had no right."

"You're literally in my throne room, yelling at my advisor, and yelling at me. I fed, clothed, and housed you, sweetheart. I believe you have no right." Her calm demeanor only enraged me more. A careful smile taunted her lips, well aware she was getting to me. "But please, continue screaming if you believe that brings any understanding. That must be the methods in Thaeleck, after all."

She was new to politics so it seemed. I could easily ask Diana to send an army to wipe out her entire country—Sorry, I meant territory. Valenciya was only an extension of Torth, after all. "You do realize I rule an actual country, right?"

"Hm, and how would that help you here?" Now her eyes lit up as if I challenged her.

"I know you might've killed hundreds to get the throne," I began, watching the threads of her life float around her, "but I'm perfectly fine taking one as well."