Seven Sinful Crowns

Griesha

Greisha sat in her throne room, a small army of guards seated before her along a long, wooden table.

"And you have secured every possible guard, mage, servant and their families?" she asked to the big man seated directly in front of her.

"Yes your majesty. There is not a single soul left in land who may have even heard whispers of the captors."

"And where are they now?"

"Being held in the Temple of Dreams. There were too many to secure within the dungeons, and it did not seem quite fitting. The priestess' of Alahar have agreed to house them until Queen Silvana is able to secure our safety."

"Very well," Griesha said, her voice dismissive. "Send word to my my dear sister, instructing her to light a fire this afternoon. I will be calling."

And the mountain of a man, armor-clad, rose to his feet and threw orders about the room as she watched. When he made to leave, she stopped him.

"Wait."

He turned, his eyes already hungry.

"There is something else which needs your immediate attention," she said, rising from the jeweled throne and crossing the floor. She said nothing else, but he knew this routine well, and he followed her as she slipped through the door and made her way silently through the halls. It was not a secret and Greisha did not make it one. She was unapologetic in her pursuits. She was Queen, after all, and why should a King be allowed his pleasures and a Queen not? It made no sense to her, and she was a greedy woman by nature. She wanted everything, and she took it without mercy or regret. He never minded and she never asked.

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Greisha woke in her bed hours later, her gown a heap of glimmering gold lace on the floor beside it. He was gone, of course. He never stayed, and she liked it this way, though sometimes she wondered what it might be like if he did. He had a wife, she knew, and she supposed he might even love her. He didn't speak of her much, but perhaps her name on his tongue, with his body under hers, tasted like treachery. It didn't matter. She had gotten what she wanted, and now there were bigger things to worry about; like her kingdom.

She rose from the mattress, stretching like a feline, head back and hair wild. The room held the chill of looming winter, it stung her skin in ice kisses, not at all like the hot breath that traveled down her flesh just hours before, and she grabbed her robe, wrapping it around herself before calling a guard to light the fire, and to bring a whisper quill while she prepared for her sisters visit.

Griesha didnt take much time to ready herself, stepping into the enormous closet and pulling the first gown from its place along the others and stepping into it. It was the color of blood almost dried, and she thought it rather fitting for the occasion. Someone was going to die for this, and it thrilled her in the worst possible way. At the table beside the raging fire sat the yellowing parchment and the long, black feathered quill, and she sat, fingering its softness before beginning.

Dear sister,

I have secured those who may have known about the prisoners within the temple of dreams, and will be awaiting your arrival. I will have the fire kept burning until you should appear. I am sure I do not need to stress the urgent haste with which this should be done, as the threat it places on all of our kingdoms is imminent.

Queen Griesha

She had not forgiven her sister, queen Silvana, for allying herself with Evaline or Lilith, though in truth, she was a bit jealous she did not think of it first. It was strategic and well thought out, and unlike Silvana, or so she had thought. Perhaps there was more to Silvana than she had realized. She wrapped that thought up, sealing it away for later as she sealed the paper into the plain, browning envelope, whispering the words into the empty room,

Fire, wind, heat and flame,

Find the one of which I name.

Deliver her the words I hold,

On wings and wind, a secret told.

Silvana.

And the letter turned to smoke in her palm, morphing into the form of a raven, and dove into the flames.