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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Andrea and Octavia sit together just outside their incredibly large encampment, both enjoying their glasses of poisoned wine. They enjoy the Arrons favourite, pink mistletoe berry wine, horribly beautiful and poisonous - like all things poisoner.
It is early in the afternoon, all Andrea's children have been wondering and socialising in Innisfuil Valley. So she's stuck with Octavia for company. Lucky her.
The poisoners arrived the day before last in the dead of night, setting up their large camp almost silently on top of the hill, to make a statement - that they are to be the future rulers and they hold a degree power.
Power. Her favourite thing, the thing she needs constantly and what she gets in the form of Carina, her foster daughter. She loves Carina like the queen is her own child and the queen is her favourite secretly. She is powerful, cunning and will make her the Head of the Black Council one day.
If Andrea was a better person she would love all of her children, including Carina, equally but she is not. She craves power like a drug. Something her late husband, Kristofer, did not understand and unfortunately he paid the price for it after he became part of the Arron family. But he was never truly one of them.
Perhaps it comes from her mother and her grandmother. Lilith Arron was a terror, always drumming into her grandchildren about politics and power. No love was ever given from her. Her mother, Kesdeya, was more passive but her life was made a horror by Lilith as well. She feels sympathy for her mother but Andrea will not fail like she did with the last poisoner queen. She will not fail the family.
Blinking slowly at old memories, Andrea takes a large sip, her icy eyes watching everyone and everything as she sits at the top of Innisfuil Valley, a queen in everything but name.
They both bathe in the sun which makes their ice blonde hair seem that much lighter and colder, like they are some winter elementals from a fairytale, or a nightmare, depending on the teller of the tale.
Octavia soon fishes out a small intricately detailed mirror with the Arron crest on the back of it.
Even though it is small, it is an exquisite silver piece that matches the lavish tastes of all poisoners, particularly Arrons. It would be worth a pretty penny on any market but not even the giftless paupers would not dare steal from an Arron. Even one as silly as Octavia.
Oh. No one would ever dare cross the Arrons, along with the Radurons who are the two most feared families on the island. People had virtually forgotten the Radurons and shadows existed but now people know who Cierra Raduron. And they neither trust or feel at ease with her. And they are wise for it.
Despite it only being in the afternoon, both women have full cosmetics plastered onto their faces, with a bright rouge on their cheeks applied by their servants earlier. All manner of jewellery adorn their necks, arms, fingers and ears, all a cold steely silver. Their dresses are also sickeningly expensive and beautiful and they wear their finery with cold expressions on their pale faces. No other women could pull off the over the top look quite as well as poisoners can.
