Writing Snapshots

stone cold

Everyone's eyes pushed and prodded at my skin and I could feel the warmth brewing in them, scalding hot as it whipped at my conscience. I pushed my shoulders back, the arch of my spine straightening and my gait slowing down as I walked the halls at a steadier pace, letting the people imbibe in the sight of me. I couldn't, shouldn't be afraid of their bald gazes. After all, I was their ruler. Their sovereign. They had seen me a thousand times.

But not like this. Not when I had just executed my brother. Watched his head fall from his body and watched deep, red blood painted the stone walls. Blood we shared.

Fear was evident on most of the people's faces and when I even sent the slightest of glances in their direction, they averted their eyes. Some even scurried to hide behind others, pressing themselves against people as if they were shields from the wrath I held.

But I could see admiration swimming in some of those depths, that I let no emotions reign my heart. Pride in some of their molten pools and surprise. Eyes widened, mouth gaping surprise that I went through with my sentence of death.

My stomach churned and heaved like sailors at sea, and my heart that was lodged in my throat started to furiously pound against the roof. Any time now, the contents of my stomach would empty and I would heave and heave until my body collapsed with fatigue

I wouldn't do it in front my subjects. Weakness was a privilege queens could not afford at the cost of their own heads. I had to make it to my room but it was a feat easier said than done.

Chop. Thud. Splash.

Blood everywhere. Down the execution block in rivulets, rivers that coiled around my heart.

Yet, my chambers at the end of the long, dark halls whispered of shadows, just seemed to get farther and farther away. I stumbled for the briefest of seconds and that was the spark that broke the fire of chatter in the room.

"I knew she was the Ice Queen, but executing her brother? That's another level of ruthless. Even if he was a supposed traitor. No one knows for sure though."

"There is a reason why she is called the Ice Queen! Besides, half of the kingdom was chanting for his head."

"I heard that she was ensnared in such frigidity that even the fires in her room ebb away in seconds."

"Don't spin tales!"

"But I swear it's true!"

"I heard that her servants have to wear gloves. She is so cold and unforgiving that her touch is enough to catch a cold!"

The rumours flew around me, touching my ears then moving onto the next, like a butterfly's wings, but not as beautiful. I didn't blame them for murmuring about me. When you've killed as many as I have to secure your reign, a crown you've had earned through war and not heirdom, deaths became a number. Nothing more, nothing less. An uncountable number of lives lost and gone to wherever souls go.

Ice Queen. It suited me, for that was what I was. Ice wrapped tendrils around my heart and my pale, translucent skin and big blue eyes that were sharper than glass but just as shattered, made me an epitome of the name. That, and the fact I let no one touch me.

Even now, a few people reached their arms out to caress the skin of a queen but I jerked out of their grasps, my body appearing to going into fits.

My breath came out has a large exhale when I finally pushed open the doors of my large and spacious chambers and slipped inside. The door clicked behind me softly. The weight of everyone's words crushed my lungs, but in the safety of my private rooms, I felt it lessening. But that was what it felt like when someone was drowning in their last moments of death. Serenity. A mirage, a period of peace.