Royalties

Chapter Four: Farewells and Faux Pas

Guess Who P.O.V.

"I distinctly recall when she got the letter. Both of them, really. She's been so overdramatic. I can't wait until she's gone. But I won't miss either...just the work they do," an unknown voice spoke. I didn't intend to eavesdrop, but I was dusting in the next room over. I glanced at the mirror beside my best friend's flute. It was her mother. As expected. I can't honestly say that I was surprised. Marilyn's mother hates me. Marilyn's father is the only reason I'm here, other than her, of course. He's always been a kind of father-figure to me. My father didn't want an extra mouth to feed, so he let me move in here. I don't know which one is worse: having a mother like Marilyn's, or having a father like mine.

Speaking of Marilyn, she came up at my side.

"You shouldn't be eavesdropping, Serafina," she scolded, trying to keep her face from twisting into a mischievous smile at the fun she knew my misbehavior brought me.

"Who cares?" I joked, mistakenly not thinking about what was flying out of my mouth. "Your mother was just saying that she won't miss us. I'm sure she'd be happier if we made early leave, in fact." Her face fell, and I knew what I'd done wrong.

"I'll be upstairs, my friend. You can remain back and eavesdrop in p-peace," she managed, tears welling in her eyes. She was well used to her mother's disrespect and disregard for her as a person, as well as extreme criticism and barbed words, but I knew that there was nothing she feared, hated, and believed more than such words. Her voice cracked as she spoke, raw emotion taking over her vocal cords. I saw her grab her flute before racing up to her room. I sighed and darted after her, grabbing her extra mouthpiece that I've noticed she prefers at times like these. A moment later, I heard the shrill cries of the other, the one she uses for volume and not necessarily calming. Following was a shriek of stress from Marilyn, and I heard no more before my ears were faced with the creaking of the stairs as I flew up to the room we shared, even though technically my room was supposed to be her closet.

When I entered the room, she'd already gotten out her throwing knives and they were hurtling through the air, lightning quick. They were aimed at a portrait of her father and her first stepfather, pinned together by nails and heavily pitted and pocketed from her earlier throws, so pierced that you couldn't see their faces very well anymore. Thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, thud, went the blades. Three individuals went into the chin and neck of her stepfather, the other two pairs went into the eyes of the portrayed people. Five more whistled through the room, slashing mercilessly at their chests. They were portraits of people she hated, so her aim was even more on point than usual. Eleven more sets of six flew before she noticed me. She looked me up and down, then nonchalantly strutted to the wall and picked out the seventy-eight blades from the portraits, afterwards taking them down and setting the knives and parchment into a box which went under her bed.

"Hello again. You're right, we should leave early. Let's go today. We're expected by three weeks anyway," she reasoned. Marilyn Smith, forever the voice of logic and strategic disposition, my mind yammered on.

"Fine. You packed, I assume?"

"Answer that yourself. Did you?"

"You did a few days ago, I haven't," I assumed. "But you've packed my bags for me."

"Of course I have, Sera. You weren't going to!"

"Did you pack it?"

"Yes, I packed your mother's violin. Now let's send for a coach, and we'll be off."

I internally winced at the mention of my mother.

She sped out the door carrying two bags, leaving the violin case for me to handle. I didn't mind. Frankly, I preferred to carry it myself since I can't trust anyone, not even her, to keep from dropping it.

I followed close behind on her tail.

Five hours later...

"Wow, these rooms are... I'm not sure what to say," I gaped. Marilyn was setting up her room. The servant showing us to our rooms, Gregory, had nodded.

"You're serving the greatest lady in the land," he replied, a bitter tone to his voice. "Your rooms must be fitting such noble work, do not you agree?"

I glanced at him. He had a look of pure envy in his peridot eyes, accompanied by malicious and hunger that faded immediately when he noticed I was looking.

"I suppose," I agreed, deliberately slowing my words to seem as if I were pondering the matter. "But the chambers are rather empty, are they not?"

His eyes grew sharp. "You recall that you order furniture paid for by the crown, correct?" I did, but I affected a shocked expression.

"Her haughtiness is that charitable?" I asked, recalling that most thought the Princess was cruel and conceited, but this man, Gregory, seemed defensive of her...and wistful, in some way. Hinting at my suspicions incidentally, he glared at me.

"How dareth thou, wherest thy poor temperament cloud thy far more poor judgement of your future ruler? Of course thine expected Queen is that generous, or you wouldn't live to see the day of her coronation!" He snapped. I was right, he was infatuated with her. Unfortunate for Marilyn, who'd taken a liking to him, I could tell.

I burst out laughing. "Good sir, you're infatuated, aren't you? And I know that she is such a giving spirit," I lied. "You have no chance, you know."

He sighed and looked to the floor. "Don't remind me," he returned, a misery lacing his voice and expression. His head snapped up. "I'll leave your paperwork to order furniture here while you unpack. Goodbye," he snarled, slamming the door. I flinched.

I moved to unpack the gowns that Marilyn had packed into my closet when I heard a long CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK behind me. I whipped around and there stood a hooded figure (who I assumed was a girl) in a purple dress with silver trimming and a branching pattern of beads. She wore it short, with a dip in the back. At the front, it went to her knees. At the back, it went to half-calf. Under it were silver leggings with the same patterns in black, with boots that went just below the knee. The dress had three-quarter sleeves that were brought up short by leather fingerless gloves studded with spikes like mini-knives that went to her elbow. They had multiple rips. The shorter dress also sported a hood with a black veil that obscured the girl's facial features. She was of medium figure, and was growling so canine-like that I'd thought she had a dog with her at first. She was pointing an arrow from a bow painted silver with black and purple markings.

I didn't even have the chance to open my mouth before she barked and tightened her grip on the wood of the bow.

Unknown P.O.V.

"Did you assassinate him yet?" I asked my private assassin, who lived off my money and secret shelter.

"No, miss. I need to wait. He almost saw me today!" she replied.

"**** *** ******, do you understand exactly how important it is that he dies? No, you don't. He's never done anything to you." The first part I said to scold her, but the second, I muttered to myself. "Griffins and gold, *******, ******* is so hard to kill! He won't stay dead!" I yelled that part out, rising from my seat, my fists clenching. I reached for my sword in the training facility and decapitated a dummy. I kept disembodying them in such manner until I got a splitting headache.

"**** *******, I beg you not to worry. He'll be dead by the time you need. That part won't be difficult in the slightest. Don't worry, *********. He'll rot in hell by then."

A/N: Character Contest winner: CherrybombShelby with Dru Shadow! Spectacular character.

Sry my chapter was so shitty AND so late!!!!!!!

This chapter was the first of many where we see a few new characters. More to come with the next chapter! Thirteen comments for the next update...plus three weeks! Jk. I'm sry I keep republishing and haven't updated, for those who read. I'm shitty. Happy belated holidays, 🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅🎅! But no srsy, 13 comments for update. Bai, 🎅s!

-Ali😺🐶🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐺🐕🐈🐕🐺