The Cruel Crown (A Young Elites Fanfiction)

Adelina Amouteru ❦

A glass throne, a glass crown, a glass castle—one might believe that queen is fragile and easily torn down. But this is a story of a queen who is quite the opposite, for she wouldn't hesitate to break you apart, shard by shard, and leave your crimson shattered remains lying at her feet.
The White Wolf's heart is not made of destructible mirrors, but instead of wrought iron and steel. And intertwined with the metal is cruelty and spite.
She is not a glass queen fated to fall into fragments and be left to her own demolished remains—no, she'll take her glass slipper and gouge your eyes out.
—Prologue

I will rule the world and kill them all.
—Diary entry of Adelina Amouteru

My whispers are still there; always lurking in the shadows of my mind. They try to seep through to poison my thoughts and drive me mad. But they praise me for my actions—and I listen to them. They praise me for all of the previous carnage I caused and all the fear and suffering that I've given. I revel in the achievements, as do they. I think they've won me over, but my fight against them is futile now.

This is who fate wanted me to be: a vicious, ruthless, and cruel queen. I've lived up to the expectation because killing is second nature to me, but only to be bested by my keen ability to lure my enemies into treacherous suffering first. I enjoy the shrieks and cries before the silence pierces through, like the silence after a storm rages apart ships and throws castles into the sea. Blissful silence isn't being able to hear my own heart beat, but to be able to hear the screams of others' hearts seizing to beat.

I sit on the throne in the grand room.

My throne.

It's aureate golden and embedded in the sides of the shimmering velvet chair are red rubies that glimmer in the dimmed light, violet colored gems of all assortments also adorn the edges. The richly colored red lining is soft against my cool fingertips. I ache for the warmth that may still linger inside me. But I cannot find that warmth.

I am the queen now.

Everyone else bows down to me. I've earned what I've sought for. After all, true rulers are not born—we are made.

The screeching whispers and red tinted vision only come at times. I don't know when the hallucinations will come, or if I can be saved. Each time, it's harder to return from. Soon I willn't be able to decipher real from illusion.

The whispers show all of those who I have left bloodshed with. Everybody who has used me only to cast me aside like a fragment of shattered glass, like glass that once made a pane or vase whole only to be broken and discarded.

The voices have left my head and now my thoughts are being cleansed once again. My cloudy thoughts begin to clear and sun is allowed back through, like the rainbow after a raging storm. My entry was correct, I am slowly slipping away into the deep end because of my Elite power, literally. And with it has come whispers, hallucinations, and insanity. I don't want them anymore, I cry.

"Violetta!" I yearn and succumb to tears again. I fall to the floor next to my throne, slow and salty tears fill my eye. The tears dry up as quickly as they came, but my eye is still scarlet bloodshot. I begin to find my legs so that I may stand. My feet are still wobbly on my feet as if I were a newborn child taking its first steps.

I hear footsteps stirring closer to me as I stumble toward the large, baroque doors. I assume it is Violetta coming to find me. I must apologize to her, but I'm not sure if I can puzzle those words together on my lips anymore.

Instead I see Magiano; I still wonder why he looked crestfallen when he looked to me earlier before he left to the royal treasury, but he will always befuddle me. He rushes over to me and props me up in his arm and helps me walk out of the throne room and back to the long hallway that looks of oblivion it's so dark. We take a few steps then turn and a few more before we stop. We wind up in front of my chamber doors sealed with locks.