The Ambition to Reign

Chapter 6: The Raven

She heard a knock. Her back towards the door, she called. "You may come in."

A servant opened the door. "Sir William Duncan, Your Majesty."

The man entered the room and nodded at the servant while the servant closed the door behind him. He looked at the young queen, her back still facing him.

"Sir William Duncan, is it?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

She spotted a silver knife on her dressing table. She hid a smile. "If that is your name," she turned around, "why have you not been introduced to me before, Lord Duncan?"

He tried hiding his nervousness. "I have been working under Sir Brighton, commander of the second fleet, for many years, Your Majesty. It was not until last year that I had been promoted to second-in-command."

"Ah... I see."

She looked at a nearby chair and gestured to him. "Have a seat, if you may." He did as he was told.

She slowly started walking towards him, each step becoming more and more menacing.

"You look oddly familiar... Are you sure we have not met before?"

"No, Your Majesty."

She smirked at those words.

"This is my first invitation to a royal ball, Your Majesty," he added.

The queen knew he was lying, but she played along anyway. "How is Sir Brighton, anyway?"

The man glimpsed from side to side, expecting someone else to answer. He was no longer confident.

I have you now, she thought. One sign of weakness and you're done.

"He does well, Your Majesty, as he has retired from his mission from Esterton."

That was it. Those words confirmed all doubts from her mind.

She stood in front of him, towering over him despite her short height. But it was not her authority that made her fearful; it was her gaze. The more she made eye contact, the more her presence became terrying. It was as if there was a dark aura that surrounded her.

"Do you know how many people I have to deal with everyday?" She didn't expect an answer from him. "Hundreds. They come and go, demanding requests, pleas, asking for mercy, and sometimes they might commemorate me."

"Of these years of encoutering peers, I have learned that there are two types of people in the world; those that beg and cry, and those that flatter and lie. Or perhaps there are those that do both..."

She slowly sat on his lap, urging to get comfortable. With seductive eyes, she leaned forward. "I say you are a liar."

She whispered in his ear, "Sir Brighton is dead."

The astonishment on his face gave everything away. This is it, she thought. He leaned further back in his chair but she kept leaning closer to him. His attempts at resistance were useless until she finally went in to kiss him hard on the lips. He tried moving away and avoiding her but she did the opposite.

While she was on top of him, Alyssia ran her hands down his sides. She felt the tip of a small dagger. I knew it, she thought.

All of a sudden she was pushed off of him. He wiped his mouth with his hand. "Do you not recognize me?!" He asked her in desperation. He was panting and sweating. Her face turned red with embarrassment and fury.

"You son of a bitch! How dare you?!"

"Careful what you say about my mother... "

Clearly showing no signs of recognition but only anger, he pulled his jacket collar to show her a large, dark scar running along the side of his neck.

She stood up and looked at it carefully. Then her entire face went pale with shock.

"Is that you... brother?"

~~~

Philippa stood by the entrance of the Royal Hall. She observed the visitors who come and go. The night had been long and now there were more people leaving. She thought there was no purpose for her being here.

Out of hopelessness, she called out to a soldier near her post. "Guard my position for a moment or two. I will be back shortly." And then she scurried off into the Hall.

It was easier to navigate through the area since there was less people. She spotted the throne, but no queen. In search of the queen, she stopped a rushing servant. "Do you know where Her Majesty might be?"

"Her Majesty left the ball some while ago, Lord Phillip. Perhaps she is in the Forbidden Room. Best not to disturb her, my Lord."

"Who is in that room with her?"

The servant paused to think. "A man by the name of Sir William Duncan, I reckon."

Philippa immediately became outraged. "William Duncan's body was found in an alley seven days ago!"

The servant became alarmed. "I'm sorry, my Lord. If I'd have known - "

" - It's not your fault."

She spoke to herself, sternly. "That man is an imposter."

Phillipa nodded to the servant and said a quick "thank you" as she headed to the second floor toward the Forbidden Room.

~~~

"You can't be... I thought you were dead!" She cried.

He shrugged. "I never died, sister. You thought wrong."

She chuckled weakly. "Thank God you're still alive." Her eyes were glazed and her cheeks were pink. "All these years I thought I was alone," she walked slowly towards him. "But now you are here." Her gaze was warm.

She looked up. "Where have you been all this time? What happened during those years? Why have you come now?"

He seemed slightly irritated by the questions but chose to avoid them. "I had my own reasons."

Alyssia chose not to respond. Further questions would cause more confusion. All that mattered was that she knew her long lost brother is alive.

She approached him, placing her hands on his shoulders and then to his chest. She whispered softly. "You have come to take the throne."

As if to correct her, Julian replied, "I have come to kill you." He looked at her regretfully. "I'm sorry, sister."

His hand brought out a small dagger. Its blade glinted in the moonlight. The queen anticipated this would happen and was able to move quickly - but not quick enough. The blade found itself punctured in the side of her hip. She cried out in pain.

Suddenly, Philippa and a few other soldiers barged into the room. She pointed at Julian. "There he is! That's the imposter."

As soon as Julian saw them, he gave a loud whistle and bolted towards the window. Just before he stepped out, Alyssia took her silver knife, aimed carefully, and threw it at his back right between the shoulder blades. He gave a loud grunt of pain as he stumbled out the window. And then he dissappeared out of sight.

Philippa rushed to the queen's side. "Your Majesty!" She looked at the other soldiers. "Call for assistance. Her Majesty requires aid immediately!" The soldiers, without any questions, ran out of the room.

The world around Alyssia seemed to fade. All voices around her were inaudible and all things around her were a blur.

The only thing she could see was the white moon through the bedroom window. It shone abnormally bright tonight. She was soon having tears streaming down her cheeks. For the first time in a very long time, she cried her heart out. The thought made her laugh.

"What more does this world have to offer?" She chuckled weakly.

She was facing towards the moon, crying with a slight smile on her face. But she did not know whether they were tears of sadness or tears of joy.

Perhaps they were both.