'Beat her again.' She screamed, as her shrill voice echoed violently throughout the cold and hollow room.
I winced in agony as the whip struck me firmly across the back. She does not deserve the satisfaction of hearing me cry out in pain. It hurt of course, but honestly, I am a warrior for my kingdom. My battle scars hurt more. I would not let her see me cry.
'Valentina! Don't you dare glare at me, you witch. Strike her again, right across her cheek. Make it hurt'. Her cold and calculating demeanor was enough to know that she was truly serious in her demand. She slowly stood up from her golden throne to move closer to me. The smirk and look of glee across her face just added to the sickening feeling that was developing in the pit of my stomach.
Even the man who had spent the last 30 minutes beating the living crap out of me looked shocked. Albeit, he was careful with where he hit and kicked me.
'But my Queen, she is a princess, they will ask questions!' He stated with an insane level of naivety. As soon as the words left his mouth, you could see him instantly regret saying anything.
'Do not question your Queen! We will pass it off as a battle scar. Now do as you are told before you become the one with a bright red scar acorss your cheek!' she snarled, her eyes fully focused on me.
The man struck me hard, causing a deep gash across my right cheek. I didn't flinch. I refused to.
Why should I give her the satisfaction of seeing the hurt, the pain and the tears gather in my eyes. She is an evil wicked banshee that I am almost certain killed her own daughter. She killed my half sister Marisol. Not that anyone else in this godforsaken place believes me.
I don't know why and I don't know how, but I know it to be true. All I know is that she is dead and the Queen's lack of emotion at hearing the news last night made me want to kill her and everyone else who dared defend her.
'We are done here. However, you will not be returning to the barracks' She stated ever so casually, as I whipped my head around.
'What?' I shouted, only to be met with a tight slap across my cheek.
'You will be staying at the palace in your old room, the nice one, of course. You are now next in line to the throne, not that I was allowed to have any say in this. Therefore, you have been reinstated in the line of succession and have had your title and rank returned to you. You will be made the Crown Princess of Vargon.' She stated, with obvious hatred and disdain in her voice. It was clear she was against this move, the way she picked at her nails, avoiding eye contact and clearing wishing she could have had me killed me when she had the chance.
Ever since I was a girl, she had beaten and tortured me. She tried to break me, play her toxic and evil mind games with me and yet, she never succeeded. She always failed. I was forged from the DNA of my father. His steel runs through my veins. I was truly my father's daughter, not hers. I'm sure this fact contributed to her deep seeded hatred of me, however it was the fact that I was gifted that pushed our relationship past the point of any return. . She hated this about me, as being gifted made me powerful. More powerful than her, that's for sure.
'I don't want the throne You take it. You're the Queen and basically this country's dictator, so just continue on with your sordid tyranny!' I yelled at her as I turned away, trying to make my weakened and bloodied limbs find their footing.
She smirked, a sinister smile creeping onto her lips. As she walked towards me her face softened, but i knew better than to trust that witch. As I tried to scramble away from her approaching figure, she accelerated towards me, grabbing a rusty iron chain from the hands of her spineless lacky. Within seconds, the chain has slid around my throat, with only my quick reflexes allowing my palm to preventing it from crushing my windpipe. I grimaced at the sight of her face. She made me want to set her on fire. She wanted me to tap into my gift. I have done so on previous occasions, only when needed, however i knew it would be pointless in this case.
YOU ARE READING
The Princess of War
Fantasy'So, You want to know my secret Marisol?' The question resounded in her mind. She wished she had never said yes. Actually, she wished that she had never gone poking around, trying to figure out why this was all happening to her. She wanted to laugh...
