Inheritance

Part 2. Chapter 2: No Time for Sulking

Twelve years ago, Pollyanna felt all life and vitality dissipate from her body as, for two months of her life, she had stewed in misery and given up.

She had faced failure for the first time in a long time.

Laurence, the dishonorable and wretched cook in the kitchen--someone who had made himself out to be loyal to the Arrozan family--had put a strange cocktail of secret herbs in their food. Before it was sent out to be eaten by the Arrozan royal family, the guards tasted it to make sure it was not poisonous. It had no effect on them.

But later, Pollyanna would learn that the slimy, clever, cook had figured out some kind of combination of herbs that constituted a potent sedative that would only be put into effect hours after it was taken.

The day had otherwise been normal. Pollyanna had no other business to do but follow around and guard the king and queen all day, and so that was what she did.

But in the late afternoon, she had begun to feel drowsy. Drowsier than she ever had in her life. Her eyelids were heavy; her muscles felt lax—her vision began swimming. At that time, she had been in the throne room and listening to some rabble expressing their concerns to the king and queen about fights breaking out amongst the fairies and humans in their city who did not get along.

The king and queen made it clear that they would send Pollyanna if necessary, but that the peasant should otherwise address the guards in their city to take care of the problem.

Pollyanna felt as if she were watching the human rabble leave the throne room with eyes that were not her own, and suddenly, she lost all muscle control and collapsed on the dais next to the king and queen.

The king and queen called her name and the last thing she saw was King Herin kneeling by her side with his familiar, blank face.

When she had awoken, four chains were manacled to her wrists and ankles. There were many swords, axes, and lances buried in her skin—her neck felt tender and a little off-balance. It seemed as if she had been beheaded, but the magic in her veins had quickly sewn her head back on.

She blinked rapidly and saw, ahead of her, a public beheading taking place in the outer bailey upon a wooden dais as the sun was setting in the sky.

There was an incredibly loud crowd of cheering rabble gazing upon the people who were to be beheaded--including armored elves, which she found strange. She still felt incredibly dazed, but she awoke from her daze when she realized it was the king, queen, and their sons being beheaded.

The king was first in line. He was pushed toward the guillotine by a six-foot-tall, muscled, executioner.

Herin was screaming for Pollyanna to come rescue him—the most expression and fear he had ever shown since he was as young as six.

Pollyanna wriggled her chains and tried to escape; she tried to call back to the king, but a gag in her mouth prevented it. Around her, four guards pulled back on the chains around her ankles and wrists to restrain her.

Herin reached out to her with tears in his eyes as he was shoved into the guillotine. The executioner pulled the rope hanging off the side of the apparatus which caused the sharp cleaver at the top of the structure to drop.

Herin shrieked her name one last time in such an unearthly tone that she would never forget it. Pollyanna did not look away as the axe came down and severed the man's head from his body. That was her self-imposed punishment for failing her king.

Gershom held his younger brother close as they waited for their turn nearby on the dais. Gershom covered the younger fairy's eyes and tried to comfort and soothe him as their mother was dragged to the guillotine next. Unlike her husband, she did not scream. Her expression did not change. But her eyes did meet Pollyanna's accusingly.