Life under Her Majesty's Tyranny

"Brother don't. One of you are going to die. It's either your don't get Varya a presant and die or he dies. Don't fall into her trap. "
 
"How do I know that you'll follow through on the deal and not just take my money and act as if I never paid?" Vince demanded, "I want it in writing, sister."

Vince could be stubborn and outspoken at times but he knew where to draw the line. Though, he may just go off as his younger sister had one day. For now, he would keep his worse thoughts in his head. He would allow them to eat him away and scream at him and wake him up at night. He would be patient. He would wait for her weakest moment--unless, of course, she pushed him too far.

"And I'll get her a present--" He could spare at least a silver piece on her, "Worry not."
 
Varya blinks at him. Blinks once, twice. Then she bursts into laughter. Loud, piercing laughter that fills the hall and assaults the ear. Loud, mocking laughter. She clutches her sides. She shakes her head. She grins pathetically.

"You don't trust me with even a simple thing as that?" she asks. "That's so.. pathetic!"

She laughs again. Her guards shift uncomfortably. Her maids shift uncomfortably. She feels their eyes again. She stops laughing.

She looks at Vincent.

"Very well," she giggles. "I'll entertain you. Guards, fetch me some parchment."

A guard retrieves a hefty stack of unrolled parchment from the cabinets at the back of the room. He hands them to her along with a tall and slender quill, its tip already impregnated with thick black ink. She writes down Cadmar's name, the 12 coins due, and her brother's offer to pay, in full, the amount owed. She signs her name at the bottom and scribbles the date and time beneath it.

"Does this suffice, dear brother?" Varya asks, holding the document so that he -- and the rest of the hall -- could bear witness to the stark strokes.
 
Vallerie smiles and relaxes. "Good."
 
"I believe so," Vince decided, fishing around in his pocket and counting out exactly twelve coins, handing them over to his sister. He had made sure to count them out loud so that his sister could not say that he had shorted her. It was nice to have a kingdom that could bare witness; revolt on Varya if she went too far in the public eye. Though, they would have to be very brave to do that. He believed in his--her people.
 
Vallerie watches carefully making sure her sister was telling the truth.
 
Varya cackles to herself as Vincent counts out every golden coin to the hall. She relished in his insecurity. He came across so strong and so self-confident in his attempts to stand up for the filth that made up their kingdom -- her kingdom -- and yet when the time it came for him to defend himself he was reduced to a shriveled bundle of nerves. It was pathetic.

You can do better than that, little brother, she thinks, letting the image of him standing there, the tiny stack of coins piled neatly in his hand sink into her mind.

She grins as he hands them over to her.

"Guard," she calls over the same man who brought her the parchment, "take these to my chambers. Ensure that young Vincent also receives a copy for his... ease of mind. We wouldn't want our prince worrying, now would we?"

She pats his shoulder patronizingly. It makes her laugh yet again. She spins back around to face Cadmar, his stiff frame still frozen to the spot. She waves her hand once again.

"Your guardian angel has just spared you the trouble, Cadmar," she coos in her swooning voice, mockery laced between her words. "You're free to go. Find a shirt on your way out, okay? Next~!"

Varya returns to her throne. She lifts her hand up to eye-level and tries to check the condition of her newly painted nails beneath the thin white fabric of her gloves. She does not bother to look up as the next peasant approaches the throne.
 
Cadmar almost sighs in relief but it wasn't over until he left the castle completely. As he passes people they give him dirty looks, even peasants think he's below them. He ignores their stairs knowing he would be richer than all of them when the day after he makes his final payment. He starts to head east as he steps past the walls and sighs. It's over, he lives another day.
 
Joris could scarcely believe it. Why would she risk it? He stepped toward the door just enough to see her, eyes wide in disbelief. She didn't stop her motions, ever cleaning. "How do I get out of here?" And then she told him a way out via the servant's gate. No one would pester him if he went that way, just walk slow like he belonged. That would be hard. Joris was certain anyone who stared at him would know immediately that he didn't belong.

But true to her word, he made it out into the city, and once in the city, no one seemed to care for him at all. They were all busy with their market ways or whatever they were doing. The best option was probably to go home. There would be no salvation from the Princess nor their Lord. They would simply have to try harder. How were they supposed to do that?
 
Varya looks up from her nails. She wraps a slender finger through the loop of porcelain that forms the handle for her teacup. She lifts the little cup daintily to her lips. She sips. The piping hot tea scolds the back of her throat. It warms her stomach, skin, and smile.

"No one?" she asks. The crowd fidgets and fusses, but no one approaches her throne. She narrows her eyes. "Well, then. I suppose this court is adjourned. The rest of you can return to your villages -- the next court will be announced, as usual, by messengers that will be sent to your town."

She pulls herself up from the throne, stands before the lot of them, and dips into a small bow. She then turns half-way towards the door -- her escape -- and waves them away with a flimsy wave. As the guards close in around the remaining citizens, ushering them out of the hall and towards the mighty bronze doors, Varya crosses the hall, a peculiar look in her eyes that only one of those present would pick up on.

Altenna.


Her friend, her dear childhood friend, the one who had always been loyal to her, the keeper of her happiness, her sanity... and her darkest secrets. The only one with whom she could share the thoughts that tore at her mind more than any other -- the only one who might understand the truth.

She approached her friend. Her eyes, dark, icy, and evil, told a different story to her closest friend. But she wouldn't let her emotions unravel here -- not in front of the whole world -- and certainly not in front of her younger brother and sister. She needed the peace, quiet, and security of her private chambers -- and Altenna's always appreciated company -- for that.

And she needed that. Now. Right away.

Because if she waited any longer more than her best friend was going to become witness to her unbridled feelings.

She barely stops as she passes Altenna, her eyes unable to meet her friend's. Wet, red eyes.

"Come," she barks. Her voice fails her -- her words wobble, her confidence shatters. She disappears through the same door through which Joris found his freedom.
 
Schiavo was sitting behind a curtain between the queens room and the thrown room. He rested his head on his knees as he hugged them. It had been 4 days since he was used to pay off a dept and he missed his family. He would never forget the last words his mother said before leaving in tears. "I will come back for you, in a couple of years. Please be good and do as your told. I want you to survive." Then she hugged him before being dragged away by a guard. He was lonely now. Almost killed 2 times since he got there for 'not doing the tea right' and 'tripping over the rug'... he was scared he wouldn't survive for his mother. He wanted to see his mother again, people weren't nice to him hear. He was better fed, better dressed, and a lot more but he would give all of that up just to be back in his home, with his family... tears rolled down his face now, and he felt they would forever do so until the day he dies. He had a feeling he would never see his mother again.

He did not hear the footsteps coming down the hall before they were almost right on top of him. He gave a surprised gasp then cursed himself after this. He knew it was two important girls by the sound of there shoes. That could only mean Varya and Altenna. They would surly have his head if he were found... hopefully he would just be set to work... with something very hard... or chained to a wall in her bedroom so she could laugh at him being hopeless and having no future. He would rather just getting a beating instead of being bullied by the princess. Tears continued to flow.
 
Varya waited for Altenna to join her on the safe side of the menacing doors. She throws herself against the wall, resting her back against the marble, tilting her head up to the ceiling and fighting back the raging emotions threatening to break forth. She needed Altenna's presence -- her support, her friendship -- to calm the bottled feelings. What was taking her friend so long?

She cluthes a hand to her chest, willing herself to collect her faculties. She forces herself to breathe. The whirlwind in her head stops for only a moment -- but in that moment she hears the soft sobbing eminating from behind a thick, violet curtain somewhere down the hall. She doesn't have to think to know it's Schiavo, the little boy from the little town of Carvinghall, given to her court as a kind of twisted payment for his family's accumulated dept.

What a horrible fate, she thinks, the sobs only fueling her drastically transformed emotions. What kind of parent sends their child to the royal court? It's a death sentence for people even twice his age...

She does not dare address him. In the privacy of the castle, away from the crowds... she will let him wallow in his misery, while she in her's.
 
Altenna gave a sigh of relief as the peasants were being ushered out of the courts. The beautiful marble floor was stained by mud from the travelling villagers sandals and as the Maids began to clean, Altenna glanced over at Varya as she made her way to the wooden door behind her.

Varya was shaken. Most people couldn't see behind the cold icy glare she gave, but Altenna could easily pierce through the mental armor that Varya had put up. Altenna could easily see the sadness in her eyes, the remorse, the stress, it was all boiling up and soon it was bound to explode. Varya passed her and when her voice cracked this only confirmed Altenna's thoughts.

Weirdly, after Varya disappeared by the wooden door that was detailed with a intricate golden design, Altenna's feet didn't follow after her right away. She stood there for a moment, watching the door.

"I hope she'll be okay.." Altenna whispered to herself as her nimble fingers fixed her silver bangs. She strode over to the doorway and before opening it she watched as Varya's younger siblings left the room silently. Her eyes darted back to the door after the younger one looked at her, and before anything could be said she entered.

"Varya..?"
 
"Not here," Varya tries to hiss, but her voice slips past her teeth and wobbles into the open air. She's grasping at straws now; everything to keep herself from spilling her thoughts right into the hall. She holds her head as high as she can, but it's obvious she's straining.

She looks to Altenna as her friend joins her in the hall. Varya hurriedly closes the thick wooden door behind them, blocking off the last of the noise in the hall -- and keeping her own from finding fresh ears. Without saying another word, she nods her head in the direction of the faint sobbing that echoes from down the hall.

Varya takes her friend's hand and leads her down the hall, past the hidden, crying boy, and into the labyrinth of marble beyond. She pulls Altenna up the Grand Staircase, through a maze of crystalline alleywalls, and to a tall, golden door at the end of the Majestic Hall. A pair of maids squeak at their appearance and dart away at high speed. Varya throws the doors to her bed chambers open, revealing a scene familiar to the both of them: a huge, sprawling room with a blood-red carpet, beyond-luxurious white four-poster bed, rows upon rows of white shelves holding all manners of shoes, accessories, hair products, and any number of beautification intensifiers. Varya's white desk, fronted by a massive mirror and two towering drawers packed to the brim with stuff, sits in the corner, perfect and magnificent, empty and uncluttered.

Varya lets go of Altenna's hand and casts herself onto her bed. It takes only seconds for her own sobs to fill the massive room.

 
A guard finds Schiavo crying behind the curtain. He jumps not even hearing the guard coming. Instantly he starts to run down the hall. His eyes are set at the door further down the hall. Hopefully it would lead to the kitchen where he had plenty of places to hide. He wasn't sure where he was at the moment, the castle was so large that he couldn't figure out where he was half the time. He was panicking now, the guard was gaining on him and he feared it would be a dead end room, if that was the case he wouldn't be surviving much longer and his parents wouldn't have gotten much out of their trade. His heart was pumping hard, his mind cut everything away except the rhythmic patting of the feet, his heart, and the door. The door was his last hope.

He made it to the door and opened it quickly then closing it behind him and turning the lock. He was gasping for air as he slid down the door then he heard something that made his heart skip a beat... the guard was walking away. That guard may have most of the keys in the kingdom but this door was an exception. He was safe until the guard came back with a key. This might have been a big relief for him but the tension was to much, he started to cry. Who could blame him? After being sold away into slavery by his own parents, almost getting killed two times, and just then being frightened for his life ones again all within the 4 days he had been there, even a grown man might cry.

He started to look up through the blurriness of his tears and he could tell it was a bedroom, then he blinked causing the tear welling up in his eyes to fall down his cheeks and he could see the princess and her friend. He would have been scared right then but all of it was taken away from him now. As his mind came back from the terror that had just happened he could see the princess was crying and her friend was trying to comfort her... he had a feeling he did something wrong... he had no hope for living to see another day.
 
Altenna's silence keeps the words Varya wants so desperately to scream at the world at bay. Instead, her sobs grow into full blown tears that slide down her slender cheeks and soak her expensive white sheets, tiny diamond swirls cutting into her face. Her chest heaves against her bed, shaking its frame, as her slim figure rocks uncontrollably, torturous misery rattling every fibre of confidence that had defined her back in the Eternal Hall. Her weeping, however, is joined by the sounds of another -- but unless Altenna has suddenly turned into a young boy, it wasn't her best friend's.

Slowly, almost cautiously, Varya pulls herself up and off of her bed, her pink cheeks doused in tears, her icy eyes pink and swollen. Her jaw tightens as she turns around to find Schiavo, the little boy whose parents had sold him to a life in the castle, the little boy she was sure she'd heard weeping in the hallway on their way to her chambers, collapsed against the closed and locked door of her bedroom, a look of horror behind his own pair of waterfalls.

"Oh, you poor child," she whispers to herself. Her heart pangs painfully at the sight of him there, beside himself at the base of her door, staring up at her as though she might devour him at him presence, soaked in his own tears and his own fear...

It brings only more tears to her own eyes. She leaves her bed and crosses her lavish room. She sinks to her knees at his side, and before she can even bring herself to consider the repercussions -- and there would be, if anyone found out her secret... but he was a little boy, a scared little boy, who needed comfort right now just as much as she -- she pulls him into a tight hug, one hand against the back of his head, pressing the both of them close together. She even leaves a kiss on his forehead.

"D-.. don't cry," she says to him, her voice soft, sweet, and kind... so unlike the one she wields upon her throne. "Don't cry... nothing to b-be afraid of... n-n-no one is going to h-hurt you..."
 
When he could see Varya was heading to him he tried to back up hitting himself against the door. He was about to beg for mercy like one of the servants had taught him but the something he never expected happened, she hugged him. He was confused until she told him not to cry, and there wasn't anything to be afraid of. He wiped the oncoming tears from his eyes trying to stop them from coming. Her hug was warm and her voice was soft, it reminded him of his mother and he couldn't help bu hugging her back. Regardless he was still crying, it lessened but he did. For a moment he didn't miss his mother, it was like she was still in the room, he didn't fear for his life because he was in her arms, but he cried knowing the truth about his own race... he knew the evil that humanity could create. He was in constant danger, he was picked on even by other servants, he was given dirty looks and lost his parents. It was far to much for him to take in alone.

He pressed himself against her and his hands gripped the sides of her dress as he hugged back. It was just like it happened the last time he saw his mother... when she was dragged away by a guard, never for him to see again. Under his cry he managed to say in no more than a whisper, "D-d-ont cry e-either."
 
Varya let a small smile peak through her sadness at the boy's kind words. She felt the light tug that came from his hands gripping the sides of her dress as he returned her hug. They sat there, the young woman and the even younger boy, not a Queen and her servant, not even a mother and her child, but two friends, lost in their troubles and entwined in each other's arms. Varya runs a hand through the boy's hair in an attempt to calm his uncontrollable sobs. She pats his back. She needs to let herself go too, but it wasn't right with Schiavo here now -- he needed at least to find his own corner of her room so that she could at least spill her woes to Altenna first. Then, perhaps, they could all cry together.

What a mess, she thinks, and even her mind-voice warbles. She curses her weakness. Sometimes she would die to really be the woman on the High Throne... the woman with the iron heart, unshakable, untouchable, as strong as a whole army of men.

"I'll try," she whispers back to him. She leaves another kiss on his forehead. She pulls him away, slowly, gently. "Listen to me, okay? I n-need to talk to my friend for j-just a little, okay? W-Why don't you g-go play in the corner for a b-b-bit, alright?"

She motions with her hand towards a particular corner by her bed, where her own small collection of custom-made stuffed bears, birds, and other animals lay scattered about the floor. She allows her eyes to settle on Altenna's. Pleading, tortured eyes.
 
Altenna watched quietly as the two of them held each other close. The both of them seemed to just have been stripped of their covers, their emotional barriers, and the only thing behind them was raw emotions. Her heart yearned and tugged at the both of them. Their shared misery was a horrible thing to watch, but the last thing Altenna should do is to let herself crumble like she had always been doing these past years. Not a single tear had been shed from her icy eyes since she was just a toddler, and not even a single tear stained her beautiful pale cheeks with her father had died a few years back. Sometimes Altenna even wondered if she had a soul.


Altenna watched the young servant boy walk away from her dear friend. Varya gave Altenna a look that really showed just how devastated she really was.


Silently Altenna moved in closer, getting onto the red carpet with her kneesso that they were at the same height. She gave her a warming smile and without a word Altenna put her arm around Varya and pulled her close to her breasts, letting Varya sob out her emotions and despair. She moved her fingers through Varya's light soft hair and warmed her with her hug as she whispered quietly into her best friend's petite ear repeatedly, each one as comforting as Altenna possibly could make them.


"It'll be alright.."
 
Once in the protective embrace of her friend's arms, Varya, her head resting against her friend's chest, let all of her sorrow pour out, her sobs echoing across every perfectly polished surface. Her chest shakes and rattles against her friend's, her lungs barely able to keep up with her crying. Something dark and horrible had clearly done an immeasurable amount of damage to Varya's strength to bring her to such a paralyzing low.

Even to her best friend, it had been a very long time since anyone had ever seen Princess -- no, Queen now -- Varya cry. And certainly not like this.

"No," she whimpers into her friend's chest, unwilling -- and perhaps unable -- to pull herself away from Altenna and her embrace. Comfort and solidarity radiated from her friend... qualities she wished nothing more than to simply absorb into herself. "It w-won't. N-not until I can f-find a w-w-way to g-get... urgh..."

She slams her eyes closed, trying to force her tears to stop so that she might steady her nerves and her breath enough to speak. All she managed to do was stop for the briefest of moments before she chest shuddered so hard the pain brought her tears back.

She swears bitterly to the open air. For a moment she doesn't even care that Schiavo might have heard her.

"I can't t-take it anymore," she confesses. "If I don't f-f-find a way to g-get the money, th-that witch is going t-to.. ki-"


"And kill you I will, if you take any longer. Such a useless little brat, aren't you?"


Varya's head flies off of Alenna's chest as the disembodied voice booms from every corner of her magnificent bedroom. Varya's eyes widen. She stares at Altenna, frozen and rigid. She thinks of Schiavo, playing alone in the corner, but does not dare turn her head.

"Oh, no..."
 
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