by Lucas Flores
A small cottage sat within, perfectly hidden by the overgrowth. As they watched, Marie’s husband carried a box into the small house and closed the door.
Blackheart gasped and took a step forward to confront him. The queen gripped her by the shoulder and stopped her.
“Stay quiet. Don’t you go running in there like some wild animal,” the queen whispered. “Follow me.” She pointed to the soldiers. “You four, take a corner and move on my mark.”
The queen pushed through the bushes, trampled over the garden, and stepped onto the covered porch. Blackheart followed.
The queen’s voice bellowed. “We have your cottage surrounded and are prepared to go in with force if necessary.” The door opened. Marie and her husband, holding hands, stepped outside.
“My dear Marie,” the queen said. She smiled with open arms. “Is this where you left to?” “This is my home away from home, Your Majesty,” Marie replied. Her voice trembled.
“Has it been so long that you’ve forgotten how to bow down before your queen?” Blackheart asked.
“Elzana, is that any way to talk to an old friend?” the queen asked. “They’re not strangers. I see your husband, Marie, but .. . . where’s your boy?”
“Inside, cleaning his room,” Marie replied.
“What a well-mannered child,” the queen said as she tilted her head and smiled.
Blackheart huffed and shifted her stance repeatedly as the queen made small talk. Unable to control herself, she pushed the queen aside and stormed towards Marie. Marie’s husband thrust himself at Blackheart. “Don’t you touch her, witch!” He shoved her aside.
Blackheart fell to the ground. “How dare you touch me. You’re a dead man, you fool!”
“Stop!” the queen ordered. “Enough of your fighting. But, now that things have escalated, I suppose it is time to get down to business. Marie, why did you leave us, dear?”
Marie grabbed ahold of her husband’s arm. “I left so I could be with my family.”
“As touching as that is, you know I can’t allow that. Now, what should I do with you two?” the queen replied.
“Skin their treasonous asses and leave her son to me,” Blackheart answered.
“No,” the queen said. “We have history with these two, Elzana. Where’s your heart?” She took a step closer to Marie and her husband. “Marie will rejoin Josephine and continue to work in the palace.”
“What about my husband and son?” Marie asked.
“I’m sure there’s enough room in the tower for your husband to waste the last of his days, away from the executioner’s ax,” the queen replied. “As for your son, I’m sure he will one day make a fine palace guard.”
Marie dropped to her knees. Tears filled her eyes.
Blackheart gasped and her nostrils flared.
The queen held her head up high and extended her hand outward. “I am most kind to offer you and your family a second chance at life.” This was the first time an entire family would be allowed to live.
“Yes, Your Grace. You are most kind,” Marie replied while drying her tears.
A small voice spoke from within the house. “Momma?” Everyone turned toward the doorway.
A small girl, about six years old, emerged. She wore a simple white dress and matching bow in her long red hair. “Did I win? Can I come out now?”
Marie wept uncontrollably. She lowered her face into her hands. “No, no, no.” She sobbed.
Her husband kneeled behind Marie and held her as she cried.
The girl stepped outside and stood with her parents.
“Who is this?” Blackheart asked. “Come, child,” she said slyly with a welcoming smile and open arms.
Marie jumped to her feet. “Don’t you dare touch her or you’ll find yourself like your sister!” She glared at Blackheart with fire in her eyes.
“I know this girl,” the queen whispered. Her memories, some of them nothing more than mere fantasies, came flashing back. A healthier, more lively queen holding her daughter, bathing her, walking with her. The queen secretly regretted not having her to play with, teach, and love. The one thing that she never had, Marie had taken. Enraged, the queen slapped Marie across the face and sent her flying into the vegetable garden several feet away.
Marie’s husband charged the queen. The queen stepped backward and dodged the attack. This was the first time anyone had ever made such an attempt on her.
Four of her soldiers rushed out of the woods to defend her in a blur of movement. “Halt!” they yelled in unison. They threw themselves over Marie’s husband and blanketed him against the ground.
As the child ran across the garden toward Marie, one of the soldiers flew across the patches of flowers, fruits, and vegetables and intercepted her. He tackled her and rolled himself around her.
“Marie. You’re under arrest for treason.” the queen hissed.
Another soldier flew across the garden and rolled himself up around Marie, immobilizing her.
“Bring them to me,” the queen ordered.
“What about her husband and son?” Blackheart asked.
“I’ll let you be creative,” the queen replied. “My concern for them is gone.”
One of the soldiers shackled Marie’s hands and held her in place. Another brought the child to the queen.
“Let’s watch, dearie, before we leave,” the queen said as she placed her hands on the girl’s shoulders and held her firmly in place.
The two remaining soldiers threw Marie’s husband back into the house and stood guard at the doors to keep him inside.
Marie’s son jumped out the front window of the cottage and stumbled. He ran right into Blackheart. “Going somewhere, son?” she asked and grabbed the skinny boy by the arms.
Marie kicked and screamed to free herself and go to her son’s side, but the soldier’s grip was too strong.
Blackheart forced the boy to the front door and threw him back inside the house with his father. “Order your soldiers to lock the two up in a closet and burn this shack to the ground.”
The queen nodded.
The soldiers jumped into action and disappeared into the cabin.
The queen held onto the child tightly. She was surprised at how calm the girl was, even when the house was engulfed in flames. However, through the cabin’s window they saw Marie’s husband break out of the closet. His body, already ablaze, thrashed around and fell to the ground. Low, guttural screams could be heard over the crackling flames.
The girl cried out, “Daddy! Noooo!” She clawed and kicked at the queen, anything to free herself, but was unsuccessful.
The queen slapped the child. “Stop crying,” she said with a stern face. “It’s unbecoming of a princess to become so emotional.”
CHAPTER 6
Red crossed her arms and held them tightly against her body. Her dad and brother were dead, and her mom was broken and unable to speak after the fire.
It was late. Torches lit the area and sent shadows dancing all around as guards hurried back and forth taking things out of tents and putting them onto carts.
“Are me and my mom your prisoners?” Red asked through clenched teeth.
The queen chuckled. “What? Your mom? Oh .. . . Marie .. . . Never mind about that. What’s your name, child? I’m Rosaline, but since I am queen most people call me Your Majesty. It is, after all, the proper thing to do.”
“And what’s that ugly lady’s name?” Red asked.
The queen laughed. “Her name is Elzana Blackheart.”
“Well it isn’t proper to set someone’s house on fire with people still in it! I don’t like her!” Red yelled before breaking out into sobs and running to the cart where her mother was being kept.
The guards had put Marie in a large cage previously occupied by hunting dogs and tossed it onto the back of a cart with the rest of the queen’s things.
The queen followed Red. “It’s time to go,” she said.
“No, I want to stay back here with my mom.” R
ed’s little hand grabbed onto the cage.
The queen sighed. “Stop it, child. You’ll be sitting up front with us.” She grabbed Red’s arm and dragged her to the front of the coach.
The queen tried to maintain a welcoming and warm façade, but Red could tell she wasn’t used to being around kids.
“Are you hungry?” the queen asked politely. Red refused to respond.
After a few moments of silence, the queen tried again. “Do you want a doll to play with, dearie?” She pulled out a delicate-looking doll made of paper and linen.
Red’s face lit up. She reached out for it. “Yes please.”
The queen smiled.
Red held the doll for a moment before slouching back down in the seat. A frown quickly replaced her excited grin. She didn’t want a toy, and she didn’t want to be with these strangers. She tore the doll’s head off and threw the body out the window of the coach.
Blackheart laughed. “Does the little devil remind you of someone?”
Red pounded her fists against the seat and yelled, “I’m not a devil!” Large tears ran like rivers down her cheeks.
The queen patted Red’s leg. “Yes, Elzana, she does. But I was never so disrespectful. As I recall, you’re the one who had problems with authority figures.”
“Oh, I still do,” Blackheart chuckled and crossed her arms. “So, I have to ask. Where on earth did you get a doll from?” she said while looking around inside the coach with exaggerated gestures, and then out the window where Red threw the doll.
“If you must know, I made it,” the queen said.
Blackheart erupted into another hearty laugh and mocked the queen for her hasty craftsmanship.
Red remained silent and tried to sleep while the two women continued to bicker and laugh at each other.
At daybreak, Red looked out the windows of the coach. They were traveling toward a large palace. Her jaw dropped. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Rows of trees and manicured rose bushes stood in contrast to the towering white stone walls. It was very different from how things grew in the forest. Nothing would be the same for her from here on out.
Blackheart was quiet, her face twisted up in an angry scowl. She stared out at the guards and well-dressed women that lined up to greet them. “You know, none of us will ever accept this child as our princess,” she said under her breath as the coach stopped.
Red listened to what they were saying but pretended to ignore their words. Inside, though, she was fuming. Why do they keep referring to me as a princess? I don’t care, I just want to be with my mom again.
Before the coach’s doors opened, the queen screamed and grabbed her stomach. She then let out a loud, drawn-out sigh and leaned back against the seat. Within seconds, she screamed again.
Red gasped with each scream.
The women outside surrounded the coach and opened the doors.
The queen waved and motioned for everyone to wait. She took in a slow, deep breath. “I think the pain is gone. I think I’m okay now.” She struggled to breathe and hesitated before moving.
Red leaned forward and looked out the open door.
One by one, the women nearest to the coach saw her. Some stepped back. Others stared. “Is this some kind of test, Your Majesty?” a young woman asked.
The other women nodded while looking back and forth at Red and the queen.
“This is no test, you twits,” the queen replied. “Don’t just stand there, help me out of this thing.”
The women reached in and carefully helped her out.
Red crawled to the edge of the seat and peered out of the coach.
The queen swayed and wobbled upon standing, but when she made eye contact with Red she stiffened up and walked steadily on her own. The women flocked around her and ushered her into the palace. “Find the doctor,” the queen said before disappearing inside.
* * *
Once the hysterical moment passed, Blackheart nudged Red. “Go on, get out.”
Red jumped out of the coach, stretched, and marveled at the palace. “It’s so big. The walls go on forever.”
“Take it all in, dear. This is the last time you’ll be seeing the outside of these walls for quite some time,” Blackheart said while getting out of the coach.
Red darted away to one of the carts.
Blackheart groaned. “I am not a baby sitter.” She followed Red and eyed the cart.
Marie was lying in her cage, curled up in a ball. “Can you let her out?” Red whispered.
“Don’t worry, you’ll see her again soon enough. And she won’t be in a cage.” Blackheart grabbed Red by the arm and dragged her into the palace and to the west wing.
Outside Marie’s old room, Blackheart released her firm grip on the child. “We never knew why Marie left, but the queen refused to let any of the other servants stay in this room. I don’t know where she intends for you to sleep, but this will do for now.” She pushed Red into Marie’s old room and locked the door from the outside. “For now, and forever, I hope,” she muttered under her breath.
Blackheart returned outside and instructed a couple of guards to retrieve Marie from her cage and take her straight to the tower. She was still listless and lethargic. Blackheart banged her hand on the cage. “It’ll all be over soon.”
When the guards hauled Marie off, Blackheart darted upstairs to check in on her cousin. The queen lay on her bed while the doctor held a stethoscope up to her in various places.
“Well?” Blackheart paused to catch her breath. “What’s the verdict?”
“If you recall, My Queen,” the doctor said while glaring at Blackheart before returning his full attention to the queen. “You lost your heartbeat years ago when you gave birth. Well, it seems you’ve got a new heartbeat, in your stomach. My Grace, I believe you’re pregnant again.”
All the women sighed and made sounds of surprise. The queen herself smiled and rejoiced. “Oh Elzana, did you hear that? I’ve been given a second chance to raise a child.”
Blackheart rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, General Bello? It’s impossible to not notice how the two of you act around one another. At least he’s somewhat respectable.” As much as she disliked Bello, he held a position of power. Power was something Blackheart always respected.
The queen smiled and nodded.
“Good. Does this mean we can get rid of that little red devil now?” Blackheart asked. “There’s no point in keeping her here, or keeping her alive for that matter.”
The queen squirmed on her bed and tilted her head. “What? Absolutely not. That’s my daughter you’re talking about.”
“With all due respect, Your Majesty, she is a leper and has no business being in the palace.” Blackheart sat on the bed beside the queen and tenderly patted her cousin’s boney hand. “Besides, what would people think? We can’t let the people see us as sympathizers. Word travels fast through their circles.”
Blackheart smiled confidently when the queen didn’t provide an immediate rebuttal. Instead, her brow crinkled and a perplexed expression crossed onto her face.
“Good. It’s settled then. I’ll have her gone first thing in the morning,” Blackheart said. She knew how to play on the queen’s insecurities.
“Elzana, don’t get ahead of yourself. The girl isn’t going anywhere. I can’t just get rid of her, not again. Keep her in the West Wing. We’ve been losing servants left and right lately, so we could use another pair of helping hands around here until I figure out what to do with her.”
Blackheart groaned. “Uuuugh, fine.” She got up and stormed out of the queen’s room. She had one more stop to make before bed.
“How are you tonight, dearie?” Blackheart asked when Josephine opened her door. “Don’t bother answering that question. I don’t really care how you’re doing.” She stepped aside and let Zane and two other guards enter the room. “Seize her.”
The guards grabbed Josephine and ushered her to the tower. Zane led the group, Blackheart followed.
“Josephine? Is that you?” Marie asked from across the darkness.
Josephine stumbled and landed on her hands and knees. She looked around the cell toward the darkened corners just outside the lantern’s glow. “Yes, it’s me.” Her voice trembled. “Who’s there? Is that…” she hesitated. “Marie?”
Blackheart tapped the blade of her dagger onto the bars. “What a nice reunion this is turning out to be. Shut up, you two. You didn’t think I would find the child? Well, you were gravely mistaken. She may be the queen’s daughter, but I’ll see to it that she meets you witches in hell.”
“No!” Marie jumped up and ran to the bars. “Don’t you dare touch my daughter. You’ll pay for this, Elzana!”
“How valiant of you to threaten me.” Blackheart tapped her dagger against the bars again. “Tsk tsk tsk.” She turned and walked away with her arm extended outward so that her dagger tapped each bar as she passed. “You ladies have a good night,” she taunted before following the guards out and slamming the door behind her.
Blackheart descended to the lowest level of the tower, below the prison, where the executioner lived. The air was moist and smelled of earth and mold. This part of the tower had no windows. The only available light came from a few sparsely laid-out torches and a fireplace on one side of the main room.
In one corner, half-covered in shadows, the executioner sharpened his ax. Sparks flew every time he pressed the blade against the sharpening stone. Blackheart never stepped into the room. If she needed his assistance, she would send someone for him. Whether it was the blades hanging from the ceiling or the smell of his breath, she possessed a dreadful respect for him and a strong desire to avoid him.
Blackheart cleared her throat. “You there. There are two waiting for you upstairs in the prison.”
The man grunted without looking up. “Be ready for them,” Blackheart stuttered. “Tomorrow, do you hear?”
