One Shots

49. [Cold as Fire]

Seeing that lowly man work ever so slowly on the tapestry I needed made me want to kill him.

Of course, I already knew of his ploys. While I am away, he unravels it little by little in order to buy himself more time. I suppose it is refreshing for a change, to have someone who knows their place, but that tapestry was something that I required, and if he failed to speed up the pace, I would force him to.

I raised my teacup up to my lips, smiling at the taste.

"Your highness, your orders?"

I set my cup down lightly.

"Do not give him food or water for the next twenty four hours, understand?" I stated. "I will have your head if I find that Leonardo Kaltvier has been given any sort of hospitality until he has made noticeable progress."

My messenger saluted and disappeared, leaving me to enjoy my tea.

This tapestry...it had to be the best. Those enchanted threads cannot be broken, and when the tapestry is completed, I would be able to surge my magic through the weaves.

Once it is completed, this country will fall to me. The citizens will have no other choice but to submit to me, their new empress.

That damn Kaltvier. If he slowed the process down any more than he already had, I will personally see to it that everything he loved burns to ashes.

Starting with that little girl of his. Ah, what was her name again? Amelias? Amelias Kaltvier, heiress apparent to the Kaltvier patchwork industry.

Seeing her burn in front of her helpless father would bring a joy like none other.

"Servant!" I exclaimed.

The nearest servant came clamoring, kneeling quickly.

"Yes, your Highness?"

"See to it that a young miss Amelias Kaltvier is being monitored and cared for until I say otherwise." I took a moment to sip my tea. "If anything is to happen to her before I say so, I will burn you to ashes."

"Y-Yes milady!"

Within moments, a fiery whip emerged from my fingertips, hitting the young servant in the face with a speed that left a festering mark in her cheek.

"Do not speak of me as "milady" you lowly servant," I said sweetly, making sure that the venom in my voice seeped through. "Respect your queen or pay with your head."

"I-I'm sorry, your Highness!"

The servant scurried away. Moments later, I heard her scream in anguish as the mark I had left began to fester and burn.

Those who refused to respect me shall pay the appropriate price.

There would be no second chance.

***

I made my way to the sewing room where Kaltvier was working away at my tapestry.

If he didn't have significant progress made, his little girl would pay the price first. The interest would be paid later with his own head.

He truly did look terrible. He used to look like a holy man: wise and undefeated, healthy and young. Although he had lost his wife in an accident, he managed to raise his young daughter on his own.

He now looked positively awful: his hair matted against his head, unwashed and unkempt. His fingers bled from the tapestry he was creating, so much so that it stained his very clothes. His eyes were gaunt and his skin sallow, as if he never stepped outside before.

And he will never step outside again, if he did not do what I asked.

"Have you made progress, Kaltvier?"

He raised the tapestry wordlessly. There was a significant amount of the tapestry completed, more than last time I had arrived. My threats had worked to get him to work faster.

"Seems as though stronger words were all that were needed to get you energized to work, hm?"

He didn't say a word. Instead, he set the needle and thread down, picking up a tattered and rather bloody handkerchief, which he proceeded to use to wipe his bloody fingers. In addition to being unbreakable, the threads couldn't be dirtied, so his blood could not stain my tapestry even if he wanted it to.

He picked up a small case, opening it to reveal gauze and medical supplies.

"Who supplied that to you?" I demanded.

"...it was already here, your Highness," he mumbled. "From the very beginning. It is a necessary thing for those in the needlework industry."

How filthy of a thing, but perhaps it was not him who requested it. After all, he knows his place, and he knew that I would not allow hospitality to him, so...

Seems like I have a little problem in my web.

I watched as he meticulously bandaged his fingers, the blood soaking the bandages almost immediately.

Would he be able to finish the tapestry with his fingers injured like that? I should not be considered with trivial matters, but my tapestry was at stake. I needed it as soon as it was finished, and him going so dreadfully slow was unbearable enough.

Fine.

I would show him a taste of hospitality.

And if he refused to show gratitude and finish my tapestry, I would make sure to burn everything to cinders.

His ashes will mark my rein as an empress.