Chapter 216

Queen Calca wondered if she would ever feel 'tranquil' again. Her peaceful thoughts and confidence had been drowned in the blood of her own citizens when she was forced to flee her capital, and then even more so when she was forced to take brutal measures to reclaim it. 'Getting my brother out of here was sensible, if something does happen with the demihumans, there's no guarantee I won't be killed. And if that happens, somebody has to carry the royal family on or the whole country will fall apart.'

Her appearance retained its usual beauty, her hair properly brushed and makeup both magical and benign were all done to perfection, and her dress a vibrant blue and white, the royal colors in all their glory.

And thanks to magic, the bloodstains on her palace were all wiped clean as if they'd never been there at all.

But that didn't set her at ease. At the far end of the hall stood Remedios Custodio, her head down, sensing the anger of the Queen. In the past, Calca would have risen from her throne and called her over. In the past, Calca would have smiled brightly and even embraced the woman with such public vigor that rumors of a sexual relationship between her and the former Paladin Commander were once widespread. The same was still whispered about her and Remedios' sister, Kelart. 'Perverts. Humans are perverts.' The thought came and went as the next man presented himself and knelt down.

He bowed his brown haired head, holding his helmet cradled in his forearm, "...And so I swear to uphold and defend the Roble Holy Kingdom, its Queen, and all the heirs of her body for as long as my line endures."

"Then rise, Marquis Delunes Albens. First of your house, first of your title, first of your name." The Queen said when he finished reciting his oath.

He was the sixth of the noble houses to rise to status that day. 'I wonder if I've purged more useless and corrupt nobles than Emperor Jircniv El-Nix, yet?' She wasn't entirely sure, but it was a distinct possibility. Every hint of corruption was met with a complete purge of the entire household, while those members allowed to live, all thrust into newly commissioned 'Dirty Battalions'.

It rubbed the Queen the wrong way, 'It seems so unfair still… to destroy a whole house because of the family heads or heirs… but Kelart is right… Gustav was right…' And that made her even sicker about it all, leaving them around would be permitting the bad behavior to continue, but punishment served as a warning to the rest, and this… putting them into units with the most dangerous assignments, where they were more likely to die than survive, risked next to nothing for the Holy Kingdom and helped keep the troublesome elements in one place. 'As an added benefit, if they think there is a way to regain favor and status, they will at least work hard.'

But it still stabbed her heart.

'As soon as I abandoned my ideals… everybody else did too. Did 'anybody' believe in them as I did? Were they just keeping quiet and humoring a stupid hopeful girl's fantasy while everybody just did whatever they wanted when I wasn't looking?' As the noble finished a speech she wasn't really listening to, the next one stepped up.

'Just get through this day's worth of ceremonial oaths, and I've got a whole new Northern Holy Kingdom to run… barely any of the old ones are still around, and I'll have to turn some attention to the South… or maybe have my brother do it.' She thought, and turned a sharp glare briefly to the waiting Remedios.

'Let her wait her turn. She has a lot to answer for… and 'waiting' is the smallest penalty she can pay for this.' Calca told herself, and began to administer another oath to another nobody who was about to become a somebody.

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After the meeting with Gustav, the Queen of Frost made haste back to her capital, landing with her customary flourishing jump from Olasird'arc's back and striding with steady steps toward those waiting to attend to her. "Rally the army!" She bellowed. "They want a war so damn badly?! We'll give them one that will never be forgotten!" Neia held out her hand and a young orc servant rushed to throw her bow into her hands. She raised it overhead and listened as the cheers of the demihumans went up around her.

"Send word to the villages in your homelands, and muster our supplies, I want to be gone within the week." She bellowed with fury. 'They have my parents… they killed my envoys, people whose lives were entrusted to me… damn them… they want to say "if" to me?!' Her ice blue eyes flashed as she recalled the pain of the blades shoved into her guts to impale her to the stake.

'I already know the answer to 'if'. It's time they learned it. Astraka should be ready by now. I wish… oh how I wish I could see Remedios' face when she finds out her country is being invaded from two fronts… and that it is entirely her fault.'

The itching on her back became much, much worse, and Neia felt a vague, tearing sort of pain, her thoughts, savage and full of wrath, were briefly subsumed by the pain as she felt the protrusions widen and rip away the hybridized flesh scales on her back.

She couldn't see it for herself, but even without seeing it, she knew. 'Wings.' Her body shook with agony as if giving birth as her skin and scale nature tore itself apart to remake a part of her into something new. She clenched her teeth to keep back screams of pain, and saw droplets of blood and flesh drip with wet plops down into the grass near her ankles. Neia's eyes shut tight so as to not see, her legs shook at the knees, and down she fell, striking the ground with a thud, crouching forward, her breasts heaving and a scream torn away under the dismayed eyes of her followers.

And then they sprang free, her appendages, with a fabric like noise of a sail catching the wind, her wings sprang into being, twice as wide as her body was tall, still dripping blood that fell down like a red drizzle of rain into the grass and dirt, the Queen of Frost continued to breathe hard and looked up and over her shoulder.

They were firm looking things, with fingerlike bones running down from a long curving one over the top, and each segment filled in by a leathery dark surface. Neia reached out to touch it, her trembling fingers caressing the unimaginable. It felt vaguely like skin, but also not quite. 'More like skin with thick calluses…' She thought, and while still breathing hard, she looked over to Olasird'arc.

"H-How do they look, partner?" She stammered.

"Dragon-like." He answered, which she took as high praise.

'Can this be real… am I dreaming, dying on the stake still and this is all some mad delusion to a dying mind?' Neia had to wonder, but while she wondered, one instinct was pounding through her veins as surely as the rooting instinct ran through a newborn.

As she began to rise, she tensed her legs, and jumped, her wings began to beat with the steady rhythm of a wardrum, the roar of her people below, in an instant louder than thunder, quickly began to fade as the Queen of Frost sought one single desire, a desire known to all those with wings from the very moment they first spread.

'I want to touch the sky.' She thought, and stretched out her hand to do exactly that as she rose, and felt she could rise forever.