Dark Queen

x.

     Lunch was stressful. The Imperius was absent, as he was preoccupied with a meeting. The Impriessa, unfortunately, seemed to have more free time on her hands. She cooed over Soren, who smiled stiffly, averting his black eyes; even as Jurauk's rival, Soren shared the strong dislike of Lebony.

     For whatever reason, she adored Soren, showering him with false love and gifts which he took with a tight-lipped thanks and burned in his hearth later. Now, Soren leaned slightly away from the burgundy haired female, his fork scraping up bits of flesh.

     "My poor baby," she crooned, laying a soft hand on his cheek, "what's the matter? You look mighty pale today. Why don't we ask someone to fetch more wine, hm? Is it because that female Elisabelle still refuses your hand? If you'd like, I can...force her to accept you."

     Jurauk almost felt bad for his brother. Almost. He took a bite of the finger, sucking in all the marrow. Immediately, he gagged and spat it out, eyes watering. The meat was rancid, as if the human had already been infected with some sort of plague. He made a face, hunching over his plate to examine the finger more closely.

     Jurauk frowned, and then hissed with surprise, jerking backwards so violently, the table shook. The Impriessa shot him a glare as her hands scrambled to keep her glass of wine from spilling.

     "Jurauk, what in Ledzemok are you doing?" she snapped, daintily dabbing the tablecloth where a splotch of blood now marred the pristine white fabric. Soren peered at the half-eaten finger and gasped.

     "Soren, something is terribly wrong," stated Jurauk, standing up from the table. The meat had indeed been rancid. Lining the raw flesh were tiny, worm-like creatures. They were so small, Jurauk had to squint to see their clearly. They wriggled back and forth, and the area around them were stained a sickly black.

     Lebony took one look at her untouched plate and shrieked in horror. Servants came rushing in. Before she could order their innocent lives to be ended, Jurauk immediately demanded, "Take me to the kitchens. No one eat anything!"

     The servants escorted Jurauk to the kitchens. White steam billowed everywhere, so thick he could barely make out one shape from another.

     The cook was so surprised to see him, he dropped his butcher knife. It embedded itself into the wooden counter. "Your Highness!" he gaped. "What brings you down here?"

     "Something is off about the food. Show me the parts that have not been served yet," Jurauk said. Still flustered, the cook led Jurauk over to a massive table where several bodies were lined up. Jurauk flicked his hand, and his talons slid out. With one quick swipe, he severed a finger from a limp hand.

     He lifted it up to the light, and his suspicions were confirmed. The same miniscule worms were tainting it. Jurauk repeated this process with the other bodies, even checking multiple body parts. Each one was infected.