A Thousand Year Obsession ✔

51. Don't Hesitate

51. Don't Hesitate

"Stop!"

The voice thundered out from behind the two thrones, a tone like thunder echoing with the force of a thousand hundred bolts. Instantly every soldier froze, a few swords inches from our own. They retreated, but neither Eliza nor I let down our guard. The sea of soldiers parted as the owner of the voice strode down the middle of the throne room towards us, boots echoing ominously, the reverberating sounds filling the tense silence. Then the last of the soldiers fell apart and our rescuer revealed herself.

She stood like a king, heels apart, shoulders back, hands loosely tense by her side. She dressed in men's clothes, a soft, airy tunic, complemented with a black belt round her waist, a necklace of rubies and black trousers, tight down to just below her knee where they vanished into her stiff midnight boots. Her hair, golden as the sun itself, curled just barley at the ends and fluttered out past her shoulders as if the wind were sifting through it. Her eyes gazed down at us, cold and as dark grey as the thunderstorm in her voice, projecting such an undoubtable authority, it made me feel minuscule, like I was nothing before her. But that only made me stand taller.

"Your Majesty." The broad soldier from before stepped forth and knelt before her, lowering his eyes to the toes of her boots.

She didn't look at him when she spoke, her voice quieter than before but no gentler.

"General Biggens. Stand when you address your Queen."

He rose swiftly to his feet, beads of sweat rising to the back of his neck when her icy stare turned to his.

"Did I give you orders to kill intruders on sight, General Biggens?" She asked coldly.

He swallowed harshly. "No, my Queen."

Her eyes moved from his to mine as she continued. "And did I consent to allow you to give orders to my army without consulting me?"

The general wrung his hands. "N-no, my Queen."

She smiled, a terribly sinister smile, as her head titled back towards him.

"Oh, and didn't I sign a decree that stated, hm, let's see," She paused, the grey in her eyes visibly twinkling, "oh yes, word for word, 'No one, under any circumstance, shall execute prisoners, offenders, or otherwise without clear permission from the current ruling monarch or without a full trial overseen by the current appointed regent'?"

The General was practically shaking under her vicious unrelenting gaze.

"Y-y-yes, my Queen." He stammered.

She laughed, a cold-hearted chuckle that sent shivers down every spine in the room. The general flinched.

"And you can't even speak without stuttering!" She removed her gaze from him and snapped her fingers. "Escort our bumbling general to the dungeons. His trial will be held at first light tomorrow. Make sure all the nobility are notified."

The soldiers rushed to obey her orders, two dragging the general out of the throne room, another three hurrying to get a message sent out to the nobles.

But she she ignored them all, turning swiftly on her heels and motioning vaguely for us to follow as she strode back towards the thrones.

"The rest of you, leave." She snapped.

The remainder of the soldiers were gone in seconds.

"I don't know why I ever even considered promoting that oaf." The authority in her voice had vanished, and she sighed, lowering her head to one hand as she turned back to us. "Morgana." She smiled softly.