The Mad Queen

Chapter Ninety-Seven: The Capital

Leander lets my father hang around with his group. Though the worst of the bullying stops, the insults and torments don't. He was a part of them, but he was the lowest. He watches as the group beat a servent all for bumping into Leander's shoulder.

"Come on, Matty," he grins, blood on his fists as the servent groans beneath him.

"No, thank you," father replies.

"Come on, it's fun," he smiles and kicks the servent in the stomach.

"You have a strange idea of fun, cousin," they all apart from Leander, drop to a bow as two of the princesses walk into the room. The eldest, Matilda, and Yasmine. My mother. Leander raises an eyebrow.

"This does not involve you," he tells them. Yasmine walks over to the server and lifts him up carefully.

"Leave our staff alone, Leander," Matilda warns.

"Or what?" he sneers. Matilda moves quickly, slamming her palm into her cousin's throat. He stumbles backwards, gasping for breath. Yasmine looks at my father.

"Don't involve yourself with these boys," she smiles at him. "They are a bad influence," she spits and glares at them all. "Father will be finding out about this," she tells them as they hurry to lift Leander up.

"Stupid bitches," he mutters once they are gone. "I can't wait until the Queen's Trial," he growls and shrugs off the boys before storming down the corridor. My father follows quickly after.

"I can't believe he did that to you," Kristoff says to Cordelia as tears fall down her cheeks.

"I could completely understand it if I had done something wrong," she gulps. "But I didn't do anything. He had no evidence." Kristoff clenches his fists.

"Let me see," he says, his voice a soft whisper. She licks her lips nervously.

"I don't want you to," she whispers as another tear falls. "I need to be your perfect queen. How can I be that anymore?" she asks.

"It's not your fault," he says and gently wipes the tear from her face. She nods her head and turns around. Gently, he opens the back of her dress and pulls it apart. Angry lines cover her back. Red, swollen and still bleeding.

"I'm sorry," she gulps again. He doesn't say anything. Instead, he goes to grab a bucket of cool water and a cloth. She flinches as it touches the wound, though his hands are gentle as he clears away the blood.

"They aren't too deep," he says to her. "They should heal fine and barely scar. It would seem he was taking it easy on you."

"Thank goodness," she gulps. He does up her dress again and she turns to face him. "Thank you, Kristoff," she smiles. She looks into his eyes for a few moments, the soft smile on her face still.

"What?" Kristoff asks softly. She laughs musically.

"I wish other people see what I see," she tells him as she strokes away some of his golden hair. His hand captures hers and holds in gently as he brings it to his lips to kiss.

"What is it you see?" he asks. She takes a step closer to him, not breaking eye contact.

"A kind, compassionate young man," she tells him. "A great king," she continues. He smiles and gently puts his hands on her hips. Her arms snake around his neck.

"You're too kind," he tells her.

"I am only telling the truth. I see you, Kristoff. You are not the monster that others believe you are." He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on hers.