Excerpt of a novel I'm working on called Pauper Crown
Stricken, fearful eyes of the fallen reflected on her rapier as the needle pointed blade dove straight for the throat. Shades of jade green and cerulean blue flashed an array of enchanting feathers; the bird's metallic claws hooked into the helmet and metal cracked. Shrieking, it flew skywards, fiery orange and yellow flickering like dancing flames on great wings. Ripped off the rebel's head, the steel helmet fell, ringing in the crystal hall.
Blood splattered the Queen's pale, doll face, as her sword poked a hole in the man's throat. Sorrow filled her beautiful liquid golden eyes, watered with tears as she took his life. The soldier slumped forward, falling against her chest, and she gently placed him on the floor. His dagger clattered to the quartz painted floor. Cristatus circled, talons decorated with silver coverings to produce a harsher grip gleamed. The bird flapped its wings, crying its victory and perched on the Queen's shoulder as she rose.
Crisatus's arched swan neck leaned to face her, his bright green eyes staring at her mournful ones, ignoring the crimson blood spattered across her cheeks.
' The Queen didn't have to wonder what her partner wanted to say; unspeakable words were more powerful when silent. "Its time to leave isn't it?" She whispered, reaching up to pluck her royal crown off her head. Lapis lazuli, emeralds and rubies winked at her despite the lack of light. Rain pounded on windows like the hundreds of angry fists at her castle doors.
Now is not the time to regret, Alvina. You are a Queen. His words echoed inside her head. Crisatus' beady eye glimmered, and he tilted his head.
Alvina Lavan Valiquel, her royal Queen of Zimorithan, allowed the crown to slip through her fingers. Hair strands looking like the summer red wine she drank in ivory goblets slipped off her snowy white gown. She wore no armor.
"My Queen, her Highness!" Metallic feet stomped down the halls louder than the rumbling thunder. Armed forces kicked the cathedral doors, shattering the ancient oak wood. Barging forth, they all filled the broken doorway, wood chips littering the red carpet and quartz floor. Her ten rose knights stared at the blood stained on her gown; the dead knight slept beside her.
A tall man she knew since her childhood stepped apart from the group. He tucked his helmet underneath his arm. Grime smeared his sweat beaded face, blonde hair messily spread atop his head. Her knight bowed, bending his knee, head dipped. "We come to you with grave news."
Alvira strode over to her knight, fear flashing in her eyes. "Where is Faelen and Mabella? Where are my children? Speak, Commander Knight Sophram."
Sophram remained staring at the floor. "We have sent the Prince and Princess to ride the ghasts. They are waiting your arrival outside the castle grounds."
"Let's make haste, we mustn't waste any time. The castle may fall, but the Valiquel family shall not." Alvira's bare feet made not a sound, her grace offering courage to her loyal men. Her strong perfume of wildflowers and pine needles filled their noses, unmasked by the iron stench of death and blood.
Crisatus flapped his giant wings, long colorful tail feathers shivering as he shifted his weight on the queen's shoulder.
Sophram followed his queen, beckoning for the remaining rose knights to follow. Lightning flashed in streaks of harsh yellow, illuminating the darkness of the halls. Enraged voices shouted outside, the log pounded against the gate. Booming echoes seemingly shook the stone walls as the din of noise grew louder. Their pace was cautious, calculating, one time halted when a betrayal appeared from the darkness, screaming. A sword flashed above his head.
Without hesitation, Alvira swiped her rapier, cutting her man down. Blood sprayed all directions, bathing room doors and emerald green rug in scarlet. She frowned, watching the soldier crumple; red was such a horrid color. It marred the beauty of her gown.
