Regicide

Chapter One

Chapter One

A struck of lightning tore through the canvas of the pitch black sky, as thunder rumbled off to the west of the castle, shaking the kingdom and its surrounding villages. This was the second restless night of the perpetual storm through Armea. The rainfall pelted down violently.

Princess Lena traced the outline of a single rose, as she watched the storm brew outside her chambers' window. She picked off the petals slowly, baring the rose of its delicate beauty.

"Gwen, gather my robe."

She set the rose stem on her bedside then pulled out the bottom drawer for seven silver coins before tucking it in a small knit pouch. She drew it shut. Princess Lena bid Gwen goodnight and dismissed her till sunrise the next morning.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror. The flickering candle casted a soft golden glow on her skin, her sharp features accentuating her prominent beauty. The entire Kingdom of Armea grew exceedingly fond of the Princess's exquisite grace. Usually, the other noble women would scowl and glare; they envied the Princess of her gifted figure and features, however, it would never be oblivious to the Princess of Armea who pranced in the attention. She adored her admirers and enviers; they fed her confidence and fueled her motives.

Lena tucked the loose strands of her unkempt braid behind her ear. She drew in a sharp breath and slowly exhaled out her nose. After tying her robe around her neck, the Princess straightened her posture and angled her head higher. A smug grin inched its way onto her face, one the girl in the mirror mimicked confidently.

Her chamber doors creaked, as she gently locked it shut. On soft toes, she rounded the corner towards the backstairs and past the Grand Hall. By the castle entrance, several guards held a banter amongst themselves in hushed voices. Lena knocked loudly on a table which the guards immediately followed, leaving their post by the door while the Princess hurriedly ran to the opposite hall. She descended down a flight of stairs that lead into the cellar. Following the maze of countless corridors, she reached the farthest gate in the corner and silently slipped through the back entrance of the castle. She raised her hood before clinging her robe tighter to her body to fight the chilly wind the rain carried along.

Her boots sunk into the mud with every step, burying the green leather in place of an earthly brown. Lena peered around the tree with a single rose patch adjacent to it, their designated meeting spot in the woods. She groaned and waited against a tree trunk to shield herself from the pouring rain. It was never in his nature to be tardy, especially for the Princess of Armea.

"You're late."

"M'lady," Lena corrected. She searched for his voice. "I rank above you, don't I, so show some respect."

He scoffed, climbing down a tree as he does so. "You're late, M'lady."

Lena pushed off of the tree trunk. She evened her gaze with his and crosses her arms. "Did you do your deed?"

"Of course. I would never go against my word, M'lady. The young squire nearing the North Village, tsk tsk. He should've seen it coming. Anyways, I made a slit straight through the neck then framed it perfectly. That was my added touch. I was hoping it would impress you."

"Consider me astonished," she rolled her eyes then handed him one silver coin from her pouch.

He glanced between the cold metal on his palm and the Princess before him. Then he furrowed his eyebrows in utter confusion.

Lena flashed him a small genuine smile and began sauntering away.

"This has to be some sort of joke," he called out.