His Queen

01.

"Please, I beg of you; release me." I whimpered as the royal guards paced in a way that rendered me stumbling over my limbs. Their fists gripped me astride with no mercy, and restlessness had been my companion all the while. Yet it was as if my voice drifted out into the wind before it even touched the ears of men.

And to what extent of surprise was it? For alas—reply did they not.

I did not thrash any further, for I knew that I was just completely helpless in addition to the fact that my hands were tied to the point of absolute bruising. I was in agony for they pulsed mercilessly with a deep ache surging from deep within my bones.

My eyes feasted upon the lavish and extravagant décor of the palace at the wrong time; golden and velveteen, portraits and looming regality had left me in a heap of intimidation for the mere seconds of which my eyes took privilege in sight. The proud walls filled with emblems and symbols made a show of every single victory the mighty kingdom of Seforaux has ever had. Various painting illustrating culture and vast history told of a marvelous story most could not. Marbled walls and gilded pillars featured such a warm yet domineering aura at the same time. Altogether, dark wooden floors were accompanied with a very intricate rich carpet and it seemed that not a single spec of dust nor dirt could be seen.

My distracted gaze was suddenly snapped away upon the halting of our steps, as we stopped in front of enormous white double doors lined with lavish gold and large, brooding ornate handles. The very sight of this caused intimidation and fright to wash upon me like ice.

Oh no.
God no.

What ever shall become of me?

Upon knocking and entering the chamber of which was still unknown to me, I had been subjected to the presence of an aged man, wise as he seemed had taken him all but a few seconds to gaze upon my physique intently with a glimmering thought beyond his eyes. Few hushed words had been exchanged between the authority and one of the guards who had gripped me. They spoke of my supposed crime, and it had been known to me that the unknown gent had been much too ready to grant me a few whippings and a few days beneath the dungeon as well.

"Your Grace, Sir Fondrio had not been all too forgiving of the lass."

"Well, a sword upon the cheek, you say?"

"Indeed, Your Grace."

"Temper has she. By the looks of it, a few whippings and a week within the dungeon would tame the girl."

"Very well, sir. Actions such as that shall be carried out before dusk."

Resist had I done, yet I knew secretly that my case could only leave me burdened deeper the more I show my disagreement upon such vile and biased accusations. As I was hauled to my feet and ushered to the doors to meet my ill-fate, his voice spoke once more.

"On another thought," he spoke behind us, to which the guards turned to face him, "grant me a look of the woman."

The guards yanked my body to face the man, my chin roughly upturned for my face to be known and seen by the authority. His stare pierced upon mine, eyes narrowing and lips lifting. Slapping the rich wood of his table, he spoke with finality; "Right; forget to think of her punishment and send her to the Upper East Wing to deal with this instant."

Upper East Wing?

The guards staggered at this just as I thought it did me, and I felt blood rushing to my palms in instant. "Yet sir, have we not spoken of her—"

The aged man hissed at this; "Ask none if you wish to keep both heads. You do not see what I do, therefore take heed and bring her there."

And thus, my fate is sealed. Little time had drifted before we faced yet again another pair of imposing grand double doors—if not, the grandest of them all.