Seven Sinful Crowns

Helina

Helina lay under the heavy duvet, the heavy weight of Killian's arm around her waist as her mind began to waken, the incessant rapping on the door plucking her senses out of slumber, and she sighed.

"Make them go away," Killian responded, his warm breath on her neck, and she smiled to herself. She could, of course, demand they leave. She was Queen, after all, but Helina knew that for the poor soul behind the heavy door to be here banging as they were, it had to be of some importance. They feared her, after all.

"What is it?" she called out, the cords of her voice stiff with sleep.

"Your sisters are here, your majesty. They insist on speaking with you," the timid voice called back.

Helina sat with a start, disengaging herself from her lover, confusion puzzling both their faces.

"Which sisters?" Helina called back.

"Queen Pria of Harmon and Queen Greisha of Saileen."

Pria? Helina thought to herself. Greisha stepping into her castle demanding an audience she could somewhat imagine...but Pria? It was not like Pria at all to make the journey from Harmon unannounced, or to beg her from her bed before even the dawn, she thought, looking out through the open balcony across the room. The sky was still dark. What time was it? With a new sense of urgency, she jumped from the bed, the cold air sending goose-flesh across her soft skin, stretched taut over aching muscles. Killian sat up, fear in his eyes as he watched her pluck his cotton shirt from the floor, throwing I over her head and turning. Stay here. Do not leave the room. And be quiet.

The halls were still mostly dark, though two servants were rushing about lighting the small candles of the torches long the walls as she walked, but she quickly overcame there efforts. No matter, she thought to herself, she knew these walls intimately and could easily find her way to the great hall, where she assumed her sisters would be waiting. Her guards would know better than to allow them further into her fortress, and when she rounded the last stone corner, she saw them, in all manner of indecency, and stopped.

Pria wore her robe, and it was a sight that took Helina off guard. For all of her life, she had never seen her sister in a state less than perfect. And Griesha, though her evening gown still hung from her shoulders, it was wrinkled and hung in a stiff folds, as if it had been wet and dried hours ago. Her hair was loose, disheveled, and for the first time Helina thought of her own appearance. How she must look standing before them in the dead of night, her hair rumpled with the tossing and turning of lovers, her legs bare below the cotton shirt that hung loose around her frame.

"What's happened?" she asked, her voice simmering with the realization.

"Griesha's castle has been infiltrated." Pria said, stepping forward to stand between them.

The words had weight, and might, and carried with it an impossible truth. They raked across Helina's body, a physical pain, as they seeped in. It had finally happened, Helina thought. The battle had begun. Her sister's had not even waited for their father's death before beginning.

"Who?"

"I have no idea," Greisha said, her voice cold, "but not you."

"True, but you know this how?"

"Well, Pria called the curse, and within it you were seen tangled up with a man. With tonight's apparel...I'd assume him to be still upstairs."

Helina's heart hammered within her chest, her mouth growing dry. Killian.

"And what do you want from me?"

"You are a sparrow. I want you to go take a look at our dear sisters, to confirm it was not them, and then I want you to find the mirror from the curse, so we might know who sent the curse, and then we might kill them. And their families.