Inkvite - My Collaborations

The Corpse

Note: Originally written on Inkvite by 'Juliet November' & 'undormant'. The first paragraph is a story prompt from 'Around The World In 80 Days' by 'Jules Verne'. It was used as part of a competition for #inkviteinspires

The guards who followed the young woman presented a violent contrast to her, armed as they were with naked sabres hung at their waists, and long damascened pistols, and bearing a corpse on a palanquin.
One guard gripped her arm harshly, and she shrugged him away. He frowned and gave her a dirty look, because she was the prisoner here. She just sneered right back, trying to posses a pretentious superiority.
She was lead down a long hallway until she reached a large door.
A guard knocked and was bid to enter. It was a grand throne chamber with a fat ugly man sat upon a golden chair.
"So," he sneered as I was made to stand in front of him, "you are the girl who would be queen."
"And you," I replied, "are the usurper who would be king."
"I mean you no harm," he said with no hint of sympathy, "I only want your trust."
"You sure have a funny way of showing that." I gestured to the chains that bound my hands. The man waved his hand and the chains were cut loose.
Then the guards entered with the corpse. They put the open top palanquin on the floor. She couldn't look at her dead husband.
"He had no right to the throne," said the king, "you know that."
"You didn't have to kill him."
"My bloodline is the rightful one historically speaking. I couldn't have him around."
"Well then why are you still putting up with me?" The king smiled mischievously. "Because, my fair queen, you will be my new wife." I stepped towards him angrily, "I will never marry you!" The guards revealed their sabres, which looked more deadly when they threatened your life.
"You're from our neighbouring nation, you're marriage was only arranged to stop the war between our countries."
"You think this little coup d'état will be successful? My family will not tolerate a forced marriage. There will be civil war here, and my nation will strike!" The king, whose stolen mighty power was portrayed for all to see, narrowed his eyes, threatened by meager words of a woman that stood at the base of his stolen royal throne.
"You would not dare!" He challenged. The woman raised her eyebrow, testing his boundaries in patience.
He boomed, "I'll kill you then!"
"If you do that," I replied, "the outcome I suggest will be a certainty and not just a possibly outcome."
"Consider yourself a real smart lady don't you? Keeping yourself alive. If you don't marry me I'll just hold you as a hostage."
"Do that," I retaliated, "and many lives will be lost for my freedom." The king's jaw clenched in frustration. He screamed and lashed out, throwing his pitcher full of wine to the floor. I held in a smirk. I was outwitting him, waiting for my chance to strike.
"So," he turned around laughing, "it's true, the women from our neighbouring land are full of spirit. They also say they are intelligent, you must see your situation here?"
"Fine," I said straightening up, "give me the royal sweet and one night to mourn my husbands body."
I could see in his eyes that he considered this to a measure of victory. So with a sneer he granted, "One night for you to relieve yourself of your husband's memory."
With a flick of his wrist, I was escorted out of his throne room and brought back to my lifeless bedroom.
She looked down at her poisoned husband laid out on the palanquin and wept, not just for his passing, but for what she was about to do.
"Something else about the 'women from the neighbouring land' he has forgotten my darling. Our love of black magic and witchcraft." She knew that consequences of what she was to do, but in her heart she knew that her husband's life was necessary in the upcoming plan that was to ensue. To give a life she had to take a life, the balance of black magic. The life you take must be equal to that you are reviving.
I summoned Goddess of Witchcraft Hecate using a secret incantation & form of worship. She was furious at what I was asking from her, I offered my life in return for my husbands, and she laughed, "but my dear you are pregnant." She insisted she would take the child when born.
A tear ran down my cheek; fore I knew what I must give in order to revive the king. With a faint, whispered, "Do so," I was forced to complete the spell, tears streaming down my face.
The king awoke with a gasp of breath and said to me, "Arrietta, what have you done?"