Mauvin Deyanira loves all the people of Lasavria dearly.
Except for one: The Crown Prince.
To her, the Crown Prince is ruthless, cunning, and dangerous. By no means should he ever ascend the Lasavrian throne.
And who is better to enforce that verdic...
Three times Mauvin rapped her long fingernails on the antique stand that held upwards of fifty miniature instruments of torture, ranging from prickly brushes to U-shaped pins to jeweled, clawed clips.
As the saying goes, beauty is pain.
And Mauvin Deyanira was willing to endure it to further her cause. The ridiculous, ornate hairstyles of the time were often excruciating to execute, and this one was no different.
The Regent shifted her gaze to the stained-glass window at her right, trying to distract herself as her scalp screamed for mercy. She took in the lush fields bountiful with cobblestone houses and rice shoots. Mauvin, and not anyone else, had created this prosperity. And it would stay that way, peaceful until the end of time.
"Opia, would you mind drafting up a list of all the known poisons in the area, as well as their potency?" Mauvin's smoky voice asked.
"Yes, Madame Regent. May I ask what for?" Her handservant inquired as they pulled the Regent's long, wavy locks into an elaborate twist. The worst was over.
Regent Mauvin Deyanira stopped for a moment, concocting a worthy excuse for her far-fetched request, brow creasing in deep concentration. "I have heard rumors of an upcoming assassination on the young prince, I wish to notify the General so she may prepare her men for His Royal Highness's coronation ceremony."
"I see." They finished pinning the dark hair in place, then left without a word, their lip curling with a devious smile.
"All hail the Queen."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
