My hate for you withered like I once had.

Prologue

He breathed his last breaths, staggeringly, in his brassy bed corroded with soiled sheets. Like a fish on land, his breath died down as he attempted to pinpoint her. The love of his life, the one he would have done everything for if he hadn't been so stupid. As he eagerly glanced at her - she looked back at him with the clinically dispassionate eyes he had given her before - an art she was forced to learn.

Her dull eyes woefully illuminated her agony. "Ana..." he guiltily muttered through his clenched jaw, " ... I'm " -

"Oh? What do we have here? Now, Your Highness, talking to the exiled queen won't earn you atonement. It is far too late" Roza interrupted as she waltzed into the bedroom arrogantly. As she pranced across the marble room, Astier choked, his breath quickened - legs contracting and convulsing in an attempt to move. Indifferent. She stood there still. Not doing anything - like she was taught to do.

how ironic...

"Happy to see me? I loved your pathetic attempts at showing me attention, even though I can only see you stagger" she chortled gleefully. Her amusement pierced the palace as her chuckles quickly became unhinged - turning into hysterical laughter. The queen impassively looked back at her - her behaviour was not a shock. But all she could do was stare, stare and be silent, and let her talk. Like she always did.

He gritted his teeth harshly, as he glared at the girl he foolishly let into the estate. Maybe it was the sheer effort he made to get up that he had lost his power. 'water..' he managed to choke out. He panted, his chest swelled unabatingly. His weak stygian eyes were dissipating in their intensity - as it lost its fervour and forcibly collapsed as fast as water blemishing a blank canvas.

Staring impassively at the sight - the queen ambled to the dying king.  Picking up the glass jug - she tipped the transparent liquid into the golden chalice. The fluidity of her movement resembled the water twirling. Yet as she was about to reach the cup - she stopped. Not abruptly - but through calculating this action she decided not to. In a matter of urgency - the quiet butler scuttled to the king. He poured the water into his parched mouth. The queen always desperately tried to feed her dearest love but all she could do now was watch, watch and see the consequences of Astier's repeated rebukes when she showcased her 'shameful efforts of seduction' to him. This time she would not commit another mistake.

A mistake that cost her baby's life. 

Choked up - the king's eyes fluttered. As his eyes twinkled - he gazed gleefully at her. A brilliant smile crept his face alluding to the impression that the queen fed him. A meer delusion. Reality struck him across the face when he could discern that the butler was more adjacent- while the queen stood exactly six inches from him - like she was always doing.  The corners of his mouth dropped as quickly as it shot up; his eyes had drooped heavier than before. 

Bittersweet isn't it, your majesty? Is my lack of affection foreign to someone who used to expect everything and more from me? 

Roza's eyes beamed at this comical sight, she picked up her oxford blue dress adorned in the kingdoms finest crystals - which was originally the Queen's engagement dress. Her steps emulated the marble floor as she moved. A jaguar preying on its innocent prey. Knowing it succeeded.  As she prowled onto his bed; the sounds of heels clicked increasingly unlike the noise that dissipated into the ellipses of the book. 

Thud. The young girl closed the book, sighing.