Ω KILL FOR WHAT YOU WANT, FOR WHAT YOU DESERVE Ω
Four sisters. One to be Queen.
A dark kingdom ruled by a dark queen for eternity lies close to a range of frozen mountain peaks. Outside that kingdom awaits four girls, all sisters. All wanting to be...
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THE QUEENTIDE BEGAN AND ENDED WITH THE BLOOD OF THE QUEENLINGS. As was tradition, each Queenling was to cut her own skin, and spill her own blood into the ancient golden goblet.
As she sat cross-legged in the center of her chambers less than an hour before the ceremony, Cressida was not afraid. Not of the self-inflicted wound that would be set into place by salt water. Not at the prospect of battling her sisters. She felt strangely calm for someone who might be marching to her death.
Her hand fluttered to the pendant hanging from her neck, and wrapped around the warm stone that hung there. It thrummed reassuringly against her skin.
She was more than the Queen of Wolves. She was Fae-blessed by the Queen of Fae herself, which was more than could be said for any Queen that had come before Cressida.
"My Queenling," a voice muttered from behind her, no doubt one of the many servants that had been placed to serve her. "You must go to the Temple of Drakon."
Cressida let the pendant slip from her fingers, and collide with her collarbone. Bellatrix stirred from her sleep, and cracked an eye open.
Cressida nodded at her wolf as she pushed herself off the floor, Bellatrix mirroring her movements. Queenling and wolf turned to face the servant. It was a young girl, no older than fifteen years. Her face was hidden behind waves of mousy brown hair, but her wide, terrified eyes were all too visible to the Queenling.
Cressida's rose-bud mouth split into a smile. With a barely noticeable hand gesture, Cressida caused a beautiful white lily to sprout from the marble ground. She plucked it gently, and held it out to the servant.
"For your hair," she said, the smile still etched on her face.
With shaking hands, the servant girl reached out. Her pale, scarred hand wrapped around the vibrant green stem slowly, as if she were afraid it would bite her. She took it from the Queenling tentatively.
"Th-thank you," she stammered, the words coming out at the volume of a whisper.
Cressida smiled again. "If you'd ask me, tuck your hair back and you'll be Pallas-blessed. You will need a wolf to keep the suitors away."
A crimson blush stained the servant's face, and she lowered her amber gaze. "You are blessed by more gods than I ever will, my Queenling."
"Find me tonight, and I shall show you the extents of the god blessings," Cressida offered, her hand stroking Bellatrix's coat.
