Our Kingdom Come | KingdomCraft

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ xxɪɪɪ - ᴅᴀʀᴋ ɴɪɢʜᴛ

OLD YOUTORIA - the Corrupted Kingdom's base of operations

"Do not move further." An armour clad guard shoved his palm forward in a command for Meghan to pause dead in her tracks. Her fingers slipped up into the air, suspended, like a criminal foiled. Her attention followed the guards other hand, that wrapped the hilt of a sword. She pushed down a feeling of dread that rose in her chest, and kept herself straight-faced. These were muddy waters.

Meghan cleared her throat. "I am Queen Meghan of the Swamp and I demand an audience with your Queen." She stated, her voice monotone and steady as to prevent any unneccessary or unwanted course of actions.

"Stand down!"

Meghan tilted her head to face Queen Lauren, who was now head to toe in iron gear. The Corrupted Queen's fingers slipped to the chinstrap of the helmet and pulled it off, purple hair falling freely over her shoulders. She pinned the helmet between her forearm and her side. And stared directly at Meghan.

"What do you want, Queen Meghan? Why come all this way?" She interrogated. Her eyes expressionless, lacking the warmth and familiarity Meghan saw weeks prior. Her face, a blank canvas and stone-cold. Meghan pondered if she could even reach this person in front of her, she appeared so distant to the Lauren who saved her army, the one she shared a cup of tea with.

Meghan opened her mouth to reply, before realizing that there was another figure in the tent, besides the Corrupted Queen and her guard. An elderly woman who held a sly smile as she watched from the background, seated on a chair, with her finger stretched out over a map. Meghan could only assume she was a part of the Corrupted Royal Family.

"Would it be acceptable to you if we could continue this conversation in private?" Meghan prompted. Eyeing both the woman behind Lauren and the guard, who had relaxed now, but still monitored her with an intense gaze.

Lauren stared at her for a moment, her nose scrunched up and eyebrows knit together, she looked at Meghan with an air of disbelief.

"We are in the middle of a war and you would like to have a chat in private?" Lauren's voice rose as if she thought Meghan couldn't see what was happening right in front of them. All that lacked was her waving her arms towards the battalions on the battlefield to help her out further.

"It is very important, not only to me, but to the whole of the realm. Now may we speak?" Meghan lifted her chin, and placed her hands on her hips, with defiance shining in her features, "or not?"

Lauren's lips pursed before thinning into a line. She appeared almost speechless, but Meghan could tell the machinations in Lauren's head were turning, she was calculating, weighing the advantages of what she presumed was a silly conversation between her and a girl who didn't know any better. But Meghan did.

"Fine," Lauren relented. "Leave us." She commanded to the others in the tent. The guard bowed in reverence before promptly taking leave. The older woman curtsied before her Queen but sneered as she passed Meghan on the way out, muttering something about bugs and itchy grass.

"What?" Lauren urged, dropping her helmet on a desk covered with maps lined with battle strategies. She didn't have much time for this.

Meghan cleared her throat, in order to speak confidently while also the tension in her throat from the weight of this responsibility. She had Queen Lauren's ear. Now it was time to see if she could change her mind.

"I know what you did..." Meghan started, in a low tone. She glanced down at her feet then returned her eyes up to Lauren, who began a slow rotation about, focus diverted anywhere but to Meghan.

"You sent the command to burn the village. You cause the brink of a war. And now you're here to fight one."

Lauren had faced away from her now, all Meghan could see was the purple streaks of hair that curtained her back.