Her Majesty
I don't often dream. I am a descendant of the gods and apparently, it's considered rude, since the realm of dreams belongs to a certain god. He doesn't meddle with our affairs and we're not to meddle with his. Which means...no dreams. But sometimes, I close my eyes and I can...find myself in a memory. I never love it. I never like it, in fact. I find myself staring at a somewhat familiar room. I stare out the window.
"He's always like this you know?"
I swallow roughly. "I know."
"He'll go mad," she whispers. "Every night he's frightful. I don't know how much more powder I can apply."
I wince. "Yes, I know."
"And you...a girl. Do you know how much he vexes me over you? Tiana, tiana, he calls me that."
I wince once more and I nod. "I know. But you once loved him, didn't you?"
"With everything I had. He was good to me once. When I was young and shiny and new. His beloved, that's what he called me."
I glance back at her, this shriveled woman. Her hair is tied up and long faded gray. Though she is bedridden, she clings to her sense of self, donning her crown, even to bed.
"Now he calls me Tiana. Coveting you. I can't decide if I despise you or pity you more, cursed child."
I close my eyes and nod. "I know."
"It is a horrible thing to love. Don't you ever do it. Falling for people...there will be no one to catch you. Nothing but darkness and pain, girl. Look at me."
I clench my jaw, feeling her spindly fingers, long nails digging into my face, forcing my eyes open.
"Look at me!" She hisses, like the devil, like a servant. I open my eyes and there she is. "This is what will become of you. And every time you forget it, even a little I will remind you."
I nod softly. "Yes, mother." She lets go of me. My wound heals, and I stand, clearing my throat.
"Thirty three children I have birthed for his throne. Every year of my life since I was 12 years old. And now...now after a long line of boys, you arrive."
She sighs. I swallow and look back out at the window. I know this memory. It shows up every once in a while. Tonight is the night. The night my family dies. It's because of me. In a crazed, desperate attempt to soil myself before my father could finish conceiving the thought, I drove him to madness.
This night. My mother warned me.
"I won't be able to persuade him against it long, Tiana. I have been fighting for you. I hate that I have to. But he has grown mad. Mad child I say, mad! You must...you must leave or die."
She turned her head. "I don't care which. No...I prefer you die. It will be easier for you, child, I promise. To live is a cowardly thing, and it will hurt."
I nod. I never spoke much. No one was ever really listening.
"Tonight, I feel, I will take leave of this world," she says solemnly. I turn around. "When I do, he will hurt you. And nothing will stop him. Go before me, daughter. You ascend. I will descend. And perhaps, one day, we will see each other again."
I swallow roughly. "Yes mother."
"He wants you before the Prince. Before you are spoiled. Don't let him take you."
She lets out a shuddering, dying breath. I continue to stare out the window, contemplating whether or not I should jump. Which way would be fastest, quickest, less painful.
"Sometimes," my breath fogs the glass. "I miss you, Mother. And then I remember you. As you really were. A broken pitiable woman for most of it. And I'm not sure...if you loved me, or if you thought you'd have a better shot at heaven if you helped me before you passed."
I blink and smile. "I do pity you mother perhaps as you pitied me. Perhaps a little more. And for what it was worth you were right. He had gone mad, mind rot with plague. Or maybe he was that way all along and I just never noticed. No one noticed. Maybe he had little girls snuck into the parlance. No way to know now. It burned that night. My father went on a killing spree. I fouled myself with a stable boy, too cowardly to kill myself, too afraid to do nothing.
I put him down. I abandoned the name Tiana. I never had needed it. Tiana was nothing, a nobody, destined to be married to the young prince of the frost.
Tiana is gone.
Her Majesty, the Empress is all that remains.
I open my eyes. Lind sleeps next to me. I should get a bigger bed so we can all fit. My fingers pierced the space between us, taking his hair between mine, golden, like sunlight. I sigh, and stand. If he awakes, he'll start emitting that annoying light. Trying to cure me. I am incurable. And yet, it hurts me so, when it doesn't work anyway. I've lived so long, a statue, a ghost, roaming around that halls. I feel I did die that die, and perhaps this is my afterlife. I've never bothered to find out.
It wouldn't matter would it? And now childbirth is upon. Cursed and a wrath, something I cannot escape. I must bear children for distress for this throne, which seems...more of a god than me. I bow to it after all, always have. Everything for the throne, for the crown, for the empire.
And what of me?
What have I done for me?
"Empress?"
I glance back, finding a familiar face. He's so pale, his dark hair mused from sleep.
"May the frosts blessings be upon you," he says softly, stepping next to me.
I glance at him; and allow him to walk with me.
"What are you doing in this part of the palace?"
He shrugged. "I thought of that night. Dream quite enjoys the frost. Cold puts people to sleep, after all," he smiles softly. "I keep looking around but I didn't see you."
I nod. "No one does."
Frost frowns and lets out a sigh, his breath visible, though it isn't cold here.
"You're not as alone as you think your majesty. They care for you, you know? And I...I also feel affection for you. You are the empress. Indulge yourself a little."
I don't reprimand his unsolicited advice instead we walk the halls in silence together.
