Wings

35: Queen To None

Queen May Castellan POV

Track: Don't Cry For Your Daughters Eve, Lydia the Bard

I don't need to see my husband bleed out to know that it happened, but I do wish I had been able to see the body.

Just...for confirmation purposes.

I was first informed by a knight who must have failed to protect him—and if the knight couldn't protect my husband, I struggle to feel as though the knight will do any good in protecting me, either. Still I let him stutter and stumble through his explanation that Hermes was attacked, that Hermes fought honorably and died a hero, that he's sorry for my loss.

My heart rate picks up. At first, I nearly accuse the knight of lying to me, but that would be brazen and risky—and what cause might a knight have to lie to his queen about matters such as this?

"Please allow me to transport you to the safe room," requests the knight hastily, "so that you may grieve in peace and away from the violence, Your Majesty."

My husband is dead—injured in the throne room, claimed the knight when he had first come running in—my husband is dead—does this mean it's over? God, do not be ridiculous—matters of this sort are never over for those of us who make easy targets.

Safety is a difficult thing, and suffering so easy. My husband is dead—does that mean I might be able to escape this place? I consider routes very briefly—perhaps a tunnel underground could take me out—a servant entrance—

Except for the bloodthirsty angels surrounding the castle. My husband's violence has enraged them—I can hear their roaring shouts and battlecries even from my tower bedroom. They will not allow a human queen to escape past them without many attempts on my life. I mustn't take that risk—they are ruthless and cruel, and they will never let me go.

For a moment, I feel young and scared—barely old enough to be considered an adult, moving to a foreign nation at the request of a brutal king in need of an heir. I remember the day I moved into this tower like it was this morning, and I feel trapped, and I am not safe because safety is a ruse, and all I can do is try to find some sort of temporary refuge. At least, I had thought it was all I could do at the time.

"The safe room," I echo, and the knight takes a few steps toward the door, attempting to usher me to go with him. "That's only temporary. When they make it into the castle, they'll tear it apart brick by brick until they find me. There's no such thing as safety here."

"Your Majesty," the knight pleads. "The Kingdom must have a ruler—you cannot leave yourself vulnerable to attack. Come with me—we can ensure you make it through this night—"

"You are dismissed," I tell him abruptly.

He stills. "...What?"

"I do not wish to visit the safe room at this time," I say, dismissing him with a finality that leaves no room for argument. "If an emergency arises, you may find me in the dungeons, in the Monster's old cell."

His mouth opens as if to protest, but he catches himself—it would be audacious to argue with a queen—before very reluctantly bowing and withdrawing from the room. I expect he'll be back with his superiors soon. It's unlikely they'd simply let me make this decision for myself.

The heavy wooden door clicks shut again, and I'm alone. I take a moment to regain my composure, letting my gaze roam over my office—the polished obsidian desk, the dim light from the tall window casting strange shadows across the cold, silent room. Carefully, I tuck away my notes, stacking them neatly within the drawer. No one can know about any of this until it's finished—until I'm safe. Then, when I am immune to blades and violence, they may react all they wish.

Once I'm certain everything is in order, I slip into the passage hidden behind the tall tapestry at the back of the room. It leads down winding stone stairs, the air growing damp and cool as I descend deeper into the castle—a passage that takes me down into the dungeons. Hermes had originally built it as a threat to me, I think. One wrong move and he can simply send me down, and who knows how long it would be before he might decide to let me out again.

His threat is my power now. My heart pounds. I can't deny the nerves.

My footsteps echo in the silence, and in fact I hear nothing else—aside from, of course, only my own heartbeat, a steady, dangerous rhythm.

At last, I reach the old cell. The Monster had stayed here—buried in the dark and far from the light of day. I wonder vaguely if he's alive, or if he's died in this battle too. It would be safest for me if he has died, I think—he does not seem like the type to forgive, and anyway, men rarely are. I can't imagine a Monster is any better.

I glance around at the diamonds I have arranged on the stone floor, carefully calibrated to capture and reflect starlight into a single, brilliant focal point in the center of the cell. Following notes left by my husband—notes which I burned, of course. I am not as careless as he was.

(I cannot afford carelessness. I seek not power, only safety. It has only ever been about safety...)

Yet tonight, the stars have hidden from me, the sky outside devoid of the bright pinpricks that would usually fill it. The prophecy speaks of a maximum number of stars in the heavens—Hermes had been working toward that for years, waging wars to kill off angels and send their souls to the stars. Only when the sky was full would we have the power needed to invoke the final ritual. But tonight, the stars have failed us, and I have to work with what remains—and, luckily, the Earth is visited by something stronger in energy than starlight. The magic of what could be millions of angels outside this very castle hums in the air. My husband had assumed the ritual was over the moment the stars disappeared from the sky, but who's to say starlight is the only holy power we can harness?

I kneel before the diamonds, exhaling slowly. If starlight is beyond reach, then I will make use of the last remnants of those angels instead. They are no longer mere points in the night sky; they are energy, raw and pulsing. And I am willing to do what it takes to channel that energy through the diamonds. I am willing to make the sacrifice.

Because I have been the one making sacrifices for too many years now—the one always swallowing my words, keeping my mouth shut, letting his violence break me over and over—and before Hermes, the violence existed then too. There is no such thing as safety for women like me.

I murmur an invocation, fingers brushing against the cold stones as they begin to hum with a faint glow. The diamonds tremble, drinking in the residual power of the angels' souls outside—I hear their cries and think vaguely that perhaps if any of them had ever answered my prayers, perhaps I would not be doing this to them—redirecting and amplifying it until the entire room seems to vibrate with an otherworldly intensity. A pulse of light converges into the heart of the cell, coalescing into a searing point.

There it is.

The angels' souls outside drain into the room, lighting it up and providing a point of power—the diamonds guiding it all, putting the power within arm's reach. I'm nearly delirious with excitement. I can't remember the last time I had an opportunity to protect myself like this—to get not just a temporary haven, but a permanent promise that no one shall ever wrong me again.

For a brief, passing moment, I think of Luke. Perhaps I should bring him down here, let him share in this, achieve safety that even the gods couldn't touch. But the thought fades quickly. It would take too long, and his mind isn't right—some sacrifices must be made.

I'm sure he'll understand I did what I had to do to keep myself safe.

I step into the focal point of the light, and the world sets on fire. 

Word count: 1404

If things are confusing, give it like one more chapter. Queen May is explaining a lot but she's also explaining it in the way that you would if you already knew what was going on, so. Just like...wait until Nico and Will get here if you're confused because their POV should be clearer for people who have no idea what's going on