Greed

Princess Amara POV

  I silently watched my little cousin, Lilith, fidget in the chair beside me. Her small hands played with the lace lining the hem of her blue and gold gown, and her foot impatiently tapped against the dining room's marble floor. I made sure that my own hands were folded together, resting in the center of my lap, and my heels were placed flat upon the ground. I sat like both a lady and princess should. I sat like a queen would. The thought of a queen immediately took my attention to my mother who gracefully sat on one of the palace's beautiful thrones. Her long, crimson dress complimented every curve of her body. She was a very elegant woman, indeed.  However, she was also quite arrogant. Whenever her gaze caught mine, the corner of her lips would raise in a smug manner, gray eyes glinting in triumph, as if telling me I had no chance of ever being queen. The woman probably revealed in the thought of me being below her. She had told me repeatedly that I was not yet ready to be queen, but her eyes practically begged me to challenge her authority, loving the idea of my defeat. I absolutely couldn't stand her and it didn't surprise me that we weren't actually blood-related. She was my stepmother, after all. My father, the King, had died only two years ago, leaving both the kingdom and crown at my mother's feet. I could feel a fiery anger burn in the pit of my stomach as I observed her giggle and smile brightly at what a dinner guest near her had said, tucking one of her blonde curls behind her jeweled ear. The anger I've always felt towards her was part of the reason why I'm doing this. Well, that and the fact that I was determined to have the crown rest delicately on my head instead of hers. Tonight was the night. Tonight, I was poisoning the queen.

     Queen Dauphine gracefully sat in her throne with her arms draped across the sides and her head held high. When her fingers brushed against the stem of her wine glass, I immediately felt my heart rate begin to quicken. It only accelerated even more when she picked up the glass, holding wine the color of her dress, and placed it to her cherry red lips. I had very high hopes for the poison, which I received from a haggly witch hidden deep in the forest, far away from the royal palace. She promised me that it would be unnoticeable if I slipped it into someone's drink and that it could kill anyone in only a matter of hours. Unexpectedly, the queen removed the glass from her lips. Doubt began to drown me at once. Had she somehow detected the poison in her drink? Was I merely foolish to think I could kill her?

     "Would you care for more cider, Princess Amara?" One of the palace's many servants questioned softly, slightly tilting his head in indication of my empty glass in front of me.

     "Yes, thank you." I barely gave the nameless man any of my attention, instead pushing my long black hair out of my eyes and keeping them glued to my stepmother. I almost let out a sigh of relief when I finally saw her take a sip of the liquid in her cup. Feeling a wave of calm and satisfaction wash over me, I smiled to myself and took a small sip of my own refilled glass of cider. The queen had no idea that she would die in only a few mere hours. My growing grin was hard to hide underneath my glass. 

     Later that same night after changing out of my lovely white dress, I snuck into my stepmother's bedchamber. She laid snuggly under her black covers, her tan skin glowing with the moonlight that flowed in from the open window. It almost made her appear innocent. But I knew better. Watching meticulously, I looked for a movement of rising and falling in her chest but didn't see one. So, I carefully moved towards her bed, my feet dragging against the soft carpet as I gently called her name.

      "Mother?" Eventually, I placed my hand to her bare chest in search of a heartbeat that wasn't there. I held my breath. It felt as if her eyes would flutter open any minute and her buttery voice would ask me why I was in her room. But there was no consistent, steady rhythm of a heartbeat. There was nothing there at all. My stepmother was dead. Queen Dauphine was dead.

     As I felt a wicked smile take over my face, I quickly went to the glass case in her room and took the crown. It was mine. Just mine. No one could stop me from being a queen now. I was the one with true royal blood coursing through my veins, not my mother. It was obvious to anyone that I was the rightful queen. I had only taken back what was mine. With my excitement still at its peak, I hurried out of her room and into the large throne room, with her favorite seat in the whole palace. It was a simple room with a simple purpose. The room was rather empty, only containing a beautifully orinate throne and many, many mirrors covering the walls. My stepmother had always loved admiring her reflection. It was a perfect room, easy for me to adjust to the image of a crown on my head.

     When I sat down on the throne, I was quick to place the intricate crown upon my head. It was heavier than I had initially expected but other than that I was pleased. I felt as if I could sit there for hours, looking at the pretty girl in the mirror with a crown placed upon her black hair and the jewels of the crown making her blue eyes glow brilliantly. However, even as much as I enjoyed doing so, I was quick to tire due to the crown's weight. I reached both of my hands to the crown and pulled.

     It wasn't coming off. Once again, I pulled. Then, pulled again. I kept pulling until I felt lightheaded and saw blood coming from my hands. It was clear that the crown's sharp edges had dug a bit too deeply into my pale skin. I still kept pulling though, even as more blood began to pour from my hands. I didn't care at the moment. I just wanted the crown off of my head.

    Looking into one of the many mirrors, I was frightened by what I saw. In the reflection I could see what appeared to be a crazy girl pulling at a beautiful crown resting peacefully on her head, blood dripping all the way down her arms. The blood was a deep red color, a stark contrast against her skin that was as white as snow. The only thing I could think of was removing the crown from my head, there was no room for logic. Therefore, I desperately continued pulling.

     It lasted for an hour. I pulled on the crown on top of my head until my hands were raw and bloody, like I had just murdered someone. Well, technically I had. Suddenly, with horror, I watched as the crown began to finally move. Although, instead of removing itself from my head, the crown only sunk deeper. I could only watch as it continued to sink even lower.

     There was no longer any hope of pulling if off of me. Gradually, the crown sank so far that it reached my neck, looking like it was trying to be a necklace. I swiftly realized that that was not the case when it began to shrink. It closed in on my neck. My hands were now back to the same action as before, hopelessly clawing at the crown as it tightened around my neck, steadily cutting off my air flow. It was choking me.

    The crown was trying to kill me. With that sudden realization, I began even more desperate than before and opened my chapped lips to scream when the tips on the crown began digging into my skin. It squeezed so tightly around my neck that I no longer had the opportunity to yell out for help.

     I was going to die. I had killed my stepmother out of greed, and now I was going to die for it. Perhaps if things had gone differently and I had realized sooner what a terrible crime it was to do I wouldn't have gotten myself into this mess.
  
     It was my fault that I was dying.

     I couldn't blame this on anyone else.

    Pain isn't a fun thing. I certainly can't say I enjoyed it as a crown choked me to death, the points stabbing into my neck and causing blood to spill rapidly down my body. It isn't worse than regret, though. My regret was the strongest feeling inside me, my stomach churning and guilt filling me up. The additional pain that came with it only added to my regret. Every drop of blood that pooled around my feet simply made the guilt inside me grow. I had left the kingdom without a ruler because of my greed. My greed had dominated any other feeling inside of me until it was the only thing I felt.

     I regret everything. I regret giving into greed.