Royally F**cked

XXII: Vīgintī duo

This was for everyone's sake, Pricilla thought, standing on the balcony of her palace. Watching as her country burst into flames. This was better. Don't get her wrong, she had no delusions. She wasn't twisted enough to think that this was right. No, she knew it was evil.

Innocent men, women and children would die tonight. Fortunately none of them were her own, trapped safely in their rooms where no one could touch them. But this was for the greater good, so to speak. The sanctity of magic. And to keep her in place in the rulership firm.

Priscilla knew her son was trying to kill her. A very sobering thought to say the least. In that way, her son was just like her. She herself had wanted to kill her parents. In fact, she did. With her own hands, she strangled the life out of both of them without having to rely on the magic she was gifted with.

Then she married Claus, a simple Prince at the time and an even simpler man. His parents had died of 'natural causes' and he was anointed King, and her Queen. Now her Father, though in his grave, wouldn't be able to torment her anymore.

The twittering voice in her head slowly dimmed as her power over the country grew. In that time she built up an underground group, her Swans, to do the dirty work for her. Any opposition, and any ounce of dirt on her nails were eradicated through their doing. With them, everything could be clean again.

She had ordered the Swans to settle in different positions across the main city, and cause magical explosions. Priscilla would then blame this on a hypothetical terrorist group. She'd then take the members of the Swans that made the explosions and have them hung publicly. A necessary evil.

Then, the Queen would use this to rally political allies and snuff out the growing sentiment that magic should be shared among everyone. Hiding under religion she would claim this was god's way of saying magic should be sacred and any opposing this would be demonic.

Religion was an easy way of manipulation. Everyone wanted to believe they belonged, that they were special and not just some speck of dust in the grand scale of humanity. They wanted comfort, and a set of morals to follow so they didnt feel like the shitty people they were. Make up a strong enough, well thought out religion and any one would follow it.

The public were at such an unrest already, might as well throw more shit into the mix. A soft smile graced her lips as she sipped delicately at the wine in her hand. Straight from the bottle of course. She had no need for any grace tonight.

A cool breeze rushed by her cheek. It was the only warning she got before the flames were stifled by crystal ice, the sound of it cracking echoed all the way to the palace. Within moments the chaos was stifled, the ice so large and all encompassing it almost changed the weather. Priscilla had to gulp down her shivers with more wine.

There was only one man capable of such a thing in this country. Her son. Priscilla had accounted for this and when the morning came, stationed two of her strongest Swans in front of his room. Locking the entire room and all its windows with strictly forbidden dark magic.

Her son was strong, there was no doubt about that, but even he had his limits. This was a spell that restrained the very first King of this country. A man cursed with madness supposedly. His portrait was in one of the palace galleries. The point was, the spell was almost entirely unbreakable.

Priscilla ran to his room, to check if it was really him doing all of this. And not some new, strange Mage. She didnt know which one would be worse. Her son, or a new competitor.

It took a little bit to get his room, wine still clutched tightly in her hand. The door was open eerily, only just a crack. But she didn't even need to open it to know what happened. The smell of iron lingering in the air told her exactly that. She did it anyway.

Across his floor the two magicians lay, coated head to toe in scarlet blood. Their throats had been slit deep. With the blood the two had spilled, he'd written on the wall. 'Fuck you mum.'

Delvin had even included the full stop. The wine slipped out of her hands, smashing on the floor in hundreds of tiny shards. Her son was a psychopath, just like his great grandfather. And just like his own mother. Priscilla bit her nails, eyes darting across the room.

Perhaps it would be best to kill her son as well. 

                                                                             --------   

Lavinia's mother had always been overtly conscious of every little thing. Windows, doors, and locks were all checked periodically throughout the day. And always in threes. Three checks for the windows, and then she'd linger over to the doors, three times with them and finally three more checks for each and every lock. She'd always pinned it down as just a quirky habit of her mothers.

But as she got older, little ticks and certain behaviours gave Linette away. She'd always be checking over her shoulders, never talked to anyone bar their neighbours, and she was strangely protective over her room.

When Lavinia turned ten, she'd lay wide awake at night and in the early hours of the morning, practically skipped to her mothers room as all kids tend to do when it was their birthday. She was almost vibrating with excitement so much so, she forgot her mother's number one rule.

Never go into the bedroom.

She'd pushed the door open in excitement, running up to her mothers bed to wake her up when something caught her eye. A dark navy, locked box. It was enticing to her childish curiosity, so needless to say, she climbed onto the desk chair and fumbly picked the thing up. It barely made any noise when she shook it, so she'd made to put it down thinking it was just some unitresting ornament.

Her mother's reaction told her otherwise. Lavinia hadn't known her mother had woken up, sat behind watching with twitchy hands as she'd messed with the box. As she had put it down, the chair she'd been sitting on was yanked backwards. So fast it had tipped over, and with it Lavinia fell.

When she'd finally recovered herself from the fall, sitting shocked on the bedroom floor, what greeted her was perhaps the strangest thing her mother had ever done. Cradled in her trembling hands was the box, she was turning it this way and that. Peering at every edge, scuff and line. Tapping it multiple times, putting her ear to it to listen for something, Lavinia never knew.

And then, the scurried gaze fell onto her and turned into a righteous fury. Glaring down at her only child, Linette had shouted at her for a full hour. Screaming and screeching about how she should never come into the room.

'Why don't you ever listen to your mother, Lavinia?!'

On that day, her tenth birthday, Lavinia went to bed without so much as a congratulations from her mother. The next day, her mother woke her up early, tears in her eyes and apologies coming from her mouth. She'd never thought more of it after that, just lumping the box as maybe a sentimental gift from someone who once loved her. Besides, the object was never brought up again.

But now, remembering it, maybe there really had been more to it than just a simple box. When Lavinia opened her eyes again, all she saw was crystal. 

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Authors Note

Hi guys! How are you doing? In this chapter we see a bit more insight to the Queens character and Lavinia's. What do you think of Priscilla? She does actually remind me a lot of Delvin. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you think <3

Thanks again, lots of love, 

Sam.E