THREE DARK QUEENS
are born in a glen
SWEET LITTLE TRIPLETS
will never be friends
THREE DARK WITCHES
all fair to be seen
TWO TO DEVOUR
one to be queen
On the island of Fennbirn every generation three triplets are born, all equal heirs to the throne...
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Klaude Vale sits in Cierra Raduron's private rooms, sipping a glass of nightshade wine, calmly waiting for the arrival of the shadow. She set a meeting for them and he was instructed by servants to wait for her.
He almost forgets there is another person in the room, a male servant in the corner with bright white hair, armed with a jug of nightshade wine. Ready to refill Klaude's glass at any moment.
Klaude is used to such luxuries, after all he is of royal blood back home in Valostra. But this wine is exquisite, he is told that only the most important of guests who aren't shadows are allowed their special drink made only in Umbra.
But he supposes if he does marry Arwen eventually, he can have the wine regularly as he lives as king. Well king consort as Cierra Raduron loves to remind him. He forgets that women rule here.
Unnervingly he doesn't notice Cierra has entered the room until he hears her voice behind him.
"Hello Klaude," she says politely and he nearly jumps with fright as he turns to see her.
"Hello Miss Raduron," he replies, unsure of how to address her. He hasn't heard anyone call her by her first name apart from her younger sister, Ebony and Queen Arwen.
Cierra chuckles, a soft strange sound as she shakes her head,
"Klaude, you can call me Cierra," she says with a charming smile that he doesn't trust in the slightest, "after all, we are to be allies just like your father and I so I think a first name basis is more appropriate. Even if you are a foreign mainlander boy," she says and Klaude almost smiles, there it is the hidden barb of venom in her sweet words.
"Exceptions to the tradition of the island can be made I suppose. Since you are related to royalty yourself. It is a foreign concept here, kings and princes don't exist and never will. Men ruling? Preposterous if you ask me but the mainland does have its funny little ways," she muses with a small smile which makes him raise his eyebrows in annoyance.
Not giving him a chance to reply, Cierra walks over to the desk, sitting in the great ebony chair that is fashioned like a throne, with intricate details of shadows and swirls carved into it. It truly looks like she is sitting on a throne of shadows. How decadent. It's far too imposing for Klaude's particular taste.
A silver key appears seemingly out of thin air into her nimble fingers as she unlocks one of the draws of her dark desks, almost instantly pulling out a plain document and laying it out smoothing the edges against the table.
She clicks her fingers and seconds later the silent servant from the corner rushes over to fill her already awaiting glass full of the midnight blue liquid.
Klaude notices the servant's fingers shaking a little as he fills her glass up to the top almost with a little fear and then wordlessly scurries back to the corner.
