ACT V: CHAPTER THIRTEEN: MAKE UP YOUR MIND

996 81 62
                                    

ACT V: CURTAIN FALL

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: MAKE UP YOUR MIND

Staging a coup is difficult.

Or so Piper had been told—groundwork laid down by her father, pulled into his office, watching him from the other side of his looming desk, shoulders turned down, pen scratching. Piper, he had said, an irritable sigh following the name of his daughter—of a responsibility he hadn't been wholly prepared for, left with now that his wife had had the sense to get out before their world crashed around them—eyes the same shade of green meeting hers, there's something you should know.

Which is how it started, all those years ago—hushed voices between father and daughter in his office, underneath a large taxidermy head from a recent trip hunting. Piper wants this, yes, she very much does, wants to sate her bloodlust, find out what happened to her father, find out where it all went wrong—and these emotions aren't any less than her childhood hope of making Richard Williams—former Prime Minister, bringer of hope—proud in his princess.

Taking a pet name and making it a title can be seen as fairly heavy handed, but that is Piper—she's not entirely sure how to work in the background, how to be subtle and lithe in the way that Finn works best. Piper knows destruction, chaos, an absolute with no other options to choose from. So she appears, almost out of nowhere, with the words on her tongue that people want to hear—the promises that are so tempting, they've heard it all before but Piper's different; Piper's a breath of fresh air and she can make those words a reality, make it their world, make it history.

Staging a coup is difficult, yes—for the unworthy, the unplanned, for those purely seeking the glory in a world where the achievements are self-imposed lies to those whom don't know any better. It's difficult for those who aren't Piper Williams, whom haven't been bred in the same conditions where power is very much like a physical object—to be nurtured and cared for, to harness into a weapon. You've got to have guts to have glory, her father had told her in that office, pointing out necessary moves to be made in this wrought out game of chess—where every pawn is obliterated and left for death. It's bloody, of course it is, though the bloodshed is in a much tidier manner opposed to the war which will follow with Piper's demise.

Piper has planned her death, it's an avenue already perfected, and once she'd told Finn this—who's preparing for her ascent to Queen to occur any day now—he'd frowned, horrified, because for him, for her extension—for this new found unfamiliar feeling loitering around inside of her and destroying her whole—the reign has barely begun, it's days in a scheme of years and years, and the future is so far out of reach, he doesn't see the usefulness of dwelling on something so messy. She had to assure him that he finds his exit door the same time that she does, they'll travel into the next realm kicking together, ready to put themselves in the next position of power which waits for them—he'd relaxed, he'd lain back down in bed, hand seeking out hers, breath whooshing out of his body in relief.

Deaths are planned in the same manner that her new legislations are—the most recent one featuring front page on the newspaper Chase brings around in the morning, preparing himself a breakfast in a kitchen Finn had gotten himself out very quickly—but there's one that hangs in the balance, ready to go one of two ways, Piper undecided on whether or not she should allow time to take its course, allow Ayden to waste away in misery, or make an example out of him.

Chase is back, no longer snivelling and stupid, but prepared with answers Piper hasn't considered, ready to prove himself as useful once again. "Piper," he begins, stirring his cup of tea, watching her flip through the newspaper for anything of any true importance—there's one particular reporter who just won't give up, the nosy little bitch that he's proving to be, a dog with a bone, asking leading questions and making ludicrous suggestions, Piper worried that he may break his shoulder for all of the reaching he's doing—ruffling his brown curls now that he's decided to grow his hair out. "I have an idea—about Ayden."

Guts And GloryWhere stories live. Discover now