Chapter 2: Long live the Queen𖤛-𝚅𝚒𝚘𝚕𝚊-𖤛

8 0 0
                                    

Knives, daggers, glass. They surround me and stab at my flesh. Fresh blood oozes from every side and I scream in pain. I'm not surprised when no one comes to my help. Why would someone ever try to heal a creature like me? I lay there wanting to die, no longer yelling for someone. Several minutes pass and my head starts to become light and I enjoy the thought of death. It humors me in fact and I giggle in a purely broken pleasure.
"Viola. Viola!" I jolt awake and urge myself to stand using the side of my bed to help me up. My servant rushes into my room with a panicked face. "Your father is dead." He says in a tone that seems to be practiced. I hurriedly rush my non-injured hand to my face and feel the silk wrapped around my head. I sigh and turn to him. "How?" I demand, at least trying to show the little emotion I have. He removes his gaze from my nightgown and straightens his back. "He was murdered, your highness. St- Stabbed 20 times to the heart in his sleep."

Broken QueenWhere stories live. Discover now