A stone flew in through the glass window with lightning speed.
BASH!
It struck her straight in the left eye.
Aislyn stumbled backwards and slumped to her knees, her hands flying up to her face, blood pouring through her fingers.
No..
"Your Majesty!" A voice screamed.
General Vael was the first to reach her, dropping beside her, his eyes widened in horror.
"Oh gods—Y-your ey–you've lost an eye, Your Majesty!"
Her eye..
"You're bleeding! Dammit, she's bleeding!" Vael snapped. He spun around, grabbed a nearby knight by the collar and shoved him hard. "Go! Fetch the royal physician—NOW!"
The knight panicked, eyes darting. "T-the physicians.. t-they're gone, s-sir."
Vael blinked. "Gone?!"
"Y-yes, General." The knight said, swallowing hard. "All the workers in the palace.. they've abandoned the Q-Queen."
Vael's face twisted in fury. "Even the maids?!"
"Y-yes, sir."
"The cooks? The gardeners? The fucking footmen?!"
"All of them, sir—"
Thud!
Another stone flew in through the broken window, this time slamming against Aislyn's temple.
"Your Majesty!" Vael cried, catching her just before her head hit the marble floor. He tore a strip of cloth from his tunic with shaking hands and wrapped it tightly around her bloodied eye.
"Stay with me!" He begged, ripping another strip and pressing it against the wound at the back of her head.
His hands covered with thick red blood.
Aislyn's breathing slowed.
'Is this how she dies? ..From fucking stones?'
"Your Majesty—c-can you hear me?! Look at me!"
Her blurry vision found the General's face, flushed red and filled with worry. His mouth was moving, but she couldn't hear a word.
Was he scared she'd die?
She looked back up at the ceiling with a faint smile.
She wasn't dying.
She just needed to..
To..
Her eyes fluttered shut.
Sleep.
"Your Majesty!"
~~
The room was dim.
Across, a girl sat.
She was barefoot and pale. Hair, the color of faded red paint spilling over her shoulders. She looked nineteen, maybe less. Her eyes were swollen, not from sleep, but from tears she refused to let fall.
Her lips trembled badly, her jaw clenched.
"I do not wish to carry the sperm of a dying old man in my womb!" She suddenly burst out, her voice cutting the silence.
CRACK!
A sharp slap whipped across her face so hard it echoed, making the girl stumbled backwards from the force.
An older woman stood beside her now, tall and terrifying, dressed in all black. Her face contorted with fury.
"You are the King's first wife!" She hissed. "And it is your duty to please him, to give him a son! This Kingdom will not tolerate your childish whining!"
"Why me?!" The girl demanded, shaking her head as she glared up at the woman. "Why must I be the one to bear this burden? Your daughter was the one betrothed to the King, not me. So why must I suffer this fate?"
Her aunt's eyes narrowed.
"I would never sacrifice my precious angel for power!" Her voice then dropped. "But you.. you are useless, of no absolute worth. You should be grateful that you are even allowed to serve the Kingdom. Now, enough of your whining!"
With a growl, the woman moved. In one swift motion, she had the girl by the neck.
The latter gasped as she was slammed against the wall, feet barely touching the floor. Her aunt's nails—long and sharp, dug into the skin at the back of her neck.
"You will fuck the King tonight so good he forgets his own name, do you understand me?!" She growled. "I do not care what infections you catch from his rotting body. This Kingdom needs an heir and I need to remain as the King's royal advisor until my dying breath!"
~~
"Your Majesty? Your Majesty? Is everything alright?"
A man's voice slowly dragged Aislyn's gaze upward. She looked around the long table. They were different faces—some tensed, most expressionless.
She creased her brows.
"I… How did I ge.. I remember the stones.. I remember collapsing."
She lifted a trembling hand to her left eye. The second her fingers touched the bandage, she flinched from the pain. When she pulled her hand back, her fingers were smeared with fresh blood.
"There was no physician available.." General Vael said grimly. "We sterilized the wound, wrapped it best we could. But if it isn't treated soon, Your Majesty.." He hesitated. "You could bleed to dea—"
"I realize." Aislyn nodded faintly.
Her gaze drifted across the table again. "But.. how am I here? I fainted some seconds ago. I know I did."
A thin-faced councilman, Solas, across the table frowned. "Your Majesty, you've been here over an hour. You woke up moments after you collapsed. You refused rest and demanded the council be summoned."
She blinked. "I did?"
Turning to Vael, she frowned. "General.. is that true?"
He nodded once. "Yes, Your Majesty."
She frowned deeply. Her lips pressed into a tight line. How? It feels like she just opened her eyes.
Then the commander—Commander Rhess, sharp of tongue and sharper of wit—suddenly spoke.
"As I was saying.. the situation has worsened, Your Majesty. Riots aren't isolated anymore. Irondell's turned. This morning, the bloodied corspe of a royal maid was dragged around the city. They screamed 'whore Queen' as they stomped her into the dirt. Children threw stones, some cheered. They want you dead at all cost."
"Want me dead?" She massaged her aching temple. "Then it seems they'll have to get in line. There's quite a queue from what I hear."
Silence.
The Commander adjusted.
"You killed your husband, the King." He paused, then continued. "That is why they want you dead, Your Majesty."
Vael stiffened. "Commander—"
"No, no." Aislyn interrupted with a small smile. "Let him speak. I enjoy a bold accusation."
Commander Rhess didn't hesitate. "We all know what happened, Your Majesty."
Aislyn slightly tilted her head, fingers toying with the edge of her sleeve. "And what exactly happened, dear Commander?"
"You were the last to see him alive."
"As were his mistress, his chamberlain, and the two guards posted at his door." She raised her gaze to him. "Perhaps it was a murder party and I forgot to send out invitations?"
A few council members shuffled uncomfortably. The General, pursed his lips, Solas coughed into his sleeve and Iridia muttered something underneath her breath that may or may not have translated to idiot.
The Commander's fists clenched. "You're not denying it."
"And I'm not confirming it either." Aislyn replied.
She stood.
And somehow, the room got colder.
"If I wanted him dead, Rhess, I wouldn't have left the body in my chambers. I wouldn't have summoned the entire court to find me there, seated beside his corpse like some grief stricken widow."
"You—"
Her expression tightened.
"Careful, commander." She gazed at him. "Accuse your Queen of treason without proof, and the next council meeting will be held without your tongue."
The room went pin drop silent
The Commander silently clenched his jaws.
Aislyn sat again. "Now, if we're done finger-pointing like drunk nobles at a harvest fair, can we discuss the actual threat?"
"The Governor of Irondell.." A voice chimed in. "We believe he's aiding the rebels. Letting them into the city. His men won't even raise their blades anymore."
Aislyn's lashes lowered. She already knew.
Of course it was the governor. That dried-up old snake never liked her. He was too loyal to the late King, even when the man's body had rotted.
"We're surrounded." Veal said grimly. "No allies. The east won't help. The south has already pulled their banners."
Aislyn sighed.
All because of that damn King. That old man turned away peace like it was poison and sabotaged every alliance with his paranoia and pride.
"You need protection." Iridia spoke. "You need to evacuate, Your Majesty—before they reach the castle."
Aislyn arched a brow at the woman.
"You want me to run? Abandon the throne? Shall I also fetch a sack of potatoes and hide in the woods like some runaway milkmaid?"
"I mean.. it would be safer—" The General began.
But one look from her and he shut up fast.
A chair suddenly creaked across the table and someone stood.
It was a man in his late forties. Pale skin and gloved hands resting on the table. He was the late King's last appointment, a man who rarely engaged in any of their conversations.
"I have a solution."
He spoke and all eyes turned.
Aislyn looked up at him, brows slightly lifted. "You've been silent in every meeting, and now you speak with such certainty. Shall I know your name?"
He smiled.
"Thorian Vex, Envoy of Varynth."
Her brow quirked. "And what is your solution?"
Thorian's eyes scanned the room calmly before they fell back to Aislyn.
"Your solution is the Crown Prince of Veldenar."
Aislyn leaned back into her chair. "You think this is a joke?"
He remained calm.
"Veldenar is the only Kingdom that hasn't dismissed your alliance entirely. Their prince may be willing to make you an offer—"
"You do realize." She cut him off. "..That I have the Crown Prince of Veldenar rotting in my dungeon. And his father's head mounted in the eastern gallery?"
>>
Aislyn is pronounced→EYE LEEN