a random assortment of short stories

The Queen of demons

Help. Help me. I'm falling, drowning. The weight is pulling me down. I can't. Oh please help me.

These are the words that run through my brain like a stream of liquid silver. How fitting.

The dress is ornate, jewels clasping every hem, and every step I take, it ripples, casting arc en ciels onto the floor. By all rights, it's beautiful, but all I can see is the horrors that lurk under those layers of silk and dripping gemstones, the twisted nature of it's soul.

"Harmonie, it's time."

My mother calls me. For her this is easy, this is all she's ever dreamt of. If her future is to succeed, mine has to fall.

"Une minute, je viens," I reply, peering at my reflection in the long mirror.

I look like a princess. My hair is strangled into a cascade held by silver leaf, more of his... gifts. The dress is like always, manifique, oh how I wish I could love it. For many, it would be a dream come true, but not me, I despise everything it stands for. The pearl slippers cushion my feet, my height amplified into my mother's wish and his head height.

L'argent. In my French, the word for silver is identique to that for money. He really has thought of everything. Because that's who I am, the money that will save my withering population.

There is one last thing I have to do. I turn to the cabinet, luxurious like everything in this awful place. My hands feel the weight of it, my fingers running over the rim, and then, to the shimmering set diamond.

I lift the crown and delicately place it on the waterfall that is my head. Funny, it feels like nothing compared to the responsibility qui m'appelle,

One last glance in the mirror. The crown adjusted and the diamond centered.

Perfect.

"Harmonie! Il t'attends!"

My mother again. I leave my room, slipping on the ivory gloves, no, my ivory gloves, and rush down the hall.

A queen does not run. She is delicate, she is dainty.

I am nearly ready, my mindset is changing, like everything about him always does. That's him. Sly, clever and manipulative. I will be his puppet now, yes, I will do everything he needs, that his country needs.

I breath the surroundings of my old self one last time as I shed that skin. Maman smiles, "I knew you could do it."

"Come."

With two steps, I am a different person. I take his arm and smile, "I'm here now. I see it all. And mon dieu, it's wonderful."

His face breaks into that dazzling grin, the one that hides the monster within. I've known it since I met him, and now, it doesn't bother me in the slightest.

The monster is in me too.

I am not worthless Harmonie, the small girl with her mind set on uprising. I am Reine Harmonie, and I do what I have to, what we all have to.

To survive.

Story by Lucy