Down With Her Majesty

Esme stood sheepishly in front of the crowd, gripping the orb and specters. Her people, the kingdom she loved so dearly, watched on as their princess became queen. A princess who wasn't meant to become queen.

The Archbishop rose the silver crown above Esme's head. "Bless we beseech thee and sanctify this thy servant our queen, and as thou dost this day set a crown of pure ice upon her head, so enrich her royal heart with your abundant grace, and crown her with all princely virtues through the heavenly principals." He slowly descended the crown onto Esme's brown hair. Her hands shook with fear, her heart was in her throat, her breathing was heavy, and the eyes of the people pierced her fragile soul.

The heavy crown rested on her hair and the large blue ruby on the front gleamed. A large gust of wind began to blow. Esme almost lost her balance. The men in the crowd held onto their hats and the women struggled to keep their dresses low. Suddenly, a stream of snowflakes busted through the Church's doors. The wind guided the precious frozen pieces to Esme and engulfed her.

Esme looked on in awe at the spectacular happening just for her. She turned her head to look at the Archbishop, who in turn smiled back at her. He raised his arms, "Long live the Queen!" The crowd exploded in joy, shouting, "Long live the Queen!"

Snowflakes continued to surround Esme. Soon, the snowflakes covered her body and began to plant themselves into her dress, her hair, her skin, and everything it could touch. Esme felt the pain of these snowflakes burying into her. Some of them leeched into her eyes, staining her green jewels. She dropped the orb and specters. Handmaidens rushed to pick up the dropped heirlooms.

The people's cheers died down as they noticed their queen in pain. They all looked on in worry to the child of Glacies. Her screams could be heard across the kingdom. She fell to her knees, hugging her body to somehow ease the pain. Some of the attendees standing by tried to help Esme back up, but the Archbishop extended his arm. "No," he said, "We must let the Gods do what they must."

Finally, the wind died down and the snowflakes that surrounded Esme disappeared one by one. Everyone stared at the girl who kneeled in front of them. However, she looked different. Her brown hair was no longer brown, but white. Her dress which was once a dark blue with black accents was now white and grey. It was as if the snowflakes had created an entirely different person using Esme as the mold.

Esme slowly stood up, wiping the hair off of her face to stare at the crowd. They returned the look, some with worry and some with amazement. Esme attempted to pull herself up, but she couldn't seem to stand. Esme's lady-in-waiting, Alessandra, ran to Esme's side to steady her. "Your Highness!" Alessandra exclaimed, gripping Esme's arm.

Alessandra pulled Esme up. The queen's skin felt cold, icy cold.

Esme steadied herself and stood up straight. She looked on at the crowd and smiled. She extended her arms, "Long live Glacies!" The crowd exploded and threw roses onto the stage. Esme turned to the Archbishop and smiled, bowing to him. "Thank you, sir," she said. The Bishop smiled back, "Of course, your Majesty."

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There was no better feeling than coming home after graduating from school. Esme was finally free from textbooks, quills, and endless exams. Her friend, Peyton, from Faunquire, had invited Esme to come to stay at her family's villa in her kingdom. Esme declined. She just had this feeling that she needed to get home.

The carriage ran over small pebbles and rocks on the road. The trees swayed in the harsh wind. Green leaves slowly disappeared from the branches they rested on and turned a snowy white. The once-blue sky faded into a blank canvas. Esme was home, home to where the snow falls and hid the truth of lies.

"We're almost there, Your Highness," the carriage driver said through the small opening near the box, "We just need to get past the ruins." Esme nodded.

The ruins were abandoned villages on the northern border of Glacies, right before the gates to the current villages. Esme's older brother, Vero, used to tell her horror stories about the ice monsters that roamed around the ruins. They were the mutated elders of the village who never made it out alive. The queen would always punish Vero for those stories.

Esme continued to stare at the sky. The sky seemed to be shedding icy tears. Snowflakes fell to the ground and laced the pavement. The windows of the carriage began to slowly be engulfed by ice. The horses' coats at the front of the carriage turned white. Esme had finally entered the kingdom of snow.

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"There she is!" People looked at the white and gold carriage that made its way to the castle's gates. The driver kept his eyes on the tall building, urging his horses to move along. Esme looked at the villagers. She waved at the children, the old folks, and the guards who were patrolling around.

"Welcome home," the driver said to Esme, looking back at the princess, "You've finally arrived at your birthright." Esme smiled, "It's really good to be back home." The driver nodded and turned back to the front.

Soon, the carriage was let past the gate and it came to a stop at the giant castle doors. Alessandra opened the carriage door for Esme and guided her out. "Welcome home, Your Highness!" Alessandra gave Esme a smile. Esme grinned and looked at her home. She was ready to go into her room, lay down, and sleep for a whole week. "Let's go inside, it's cold," Esme said, walking up the concrete stairs.

Two butlers opened the doors for Esme. Then, they rushed down to the carriage and began unloading the cargo. "Oh, please be careful with that luggage!" Alessandra cried out before slamming the doors shut. "This damn snow," she cursed, looking at the snow that crawled into the warm palace, "I wish the God of Snow would just end the snowfall."

Esme looked around. The foyer seemed darker since the last time she had been in there. The chandelier's candles that hung on the high roof didn't seem like they were lit. "Why aren't the candles lit?" Esme asked Alessandra. Alessandra looked up and sighed. "I'm not sure myself," she said, "Recently, we let the Queen use the sorcerer's wand to light the candles. She told the staff that she would be staying up late for the next few days and she would take some stress off of us and do the work." Alessandra looked back down and fiddled with her fingers, "But I guess she hasn't been doing a wonderful job."

The door behind the two reopened and the butlers waddled in, carrying luggage with them. "Oh no," Alessandra said looking at the snow they dragged in, "You're tracking in more snow!" The butlers shrugged and closed the doors with their feet. "Your Highness," one of the butlers asked, "Do you want us to take your bags to your room?" Esme began walking to her room, "Yes, please."

Alessandra groaned and looked at the princess. "I'll be right there, I'm just gonna sweep up this snow!" A maid walked by the foyer. "You!" Alessandra shouted. The maid jumped, "Y-Yes?" she stuttered. "Get a mop for me, now!" Alessandra demanded. The maid scurried back to the kitchen, "Yes ma'am, right away!"

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The hall was dead quiet, maybe a little too quiet. Aside from the sound of Esme's heels clicking the floor and the breathing of her butlers, nothing else filled her ears. To her, that was strange. Her brothers Claude and Vero would've been arguing about chess in the drawing room, her sister Gloria would've been singing her heart out, and her mother would be in the master bedroom down the hall playing the piano. But the hallway was still.

Esme finally stopped in front of her door and opened the door slowly. Inside, her room remained the same over the years. Her bed was still a large, all-white, curtained queen bed and vines that grew from the top of it. She had a wall filled with pictures of her as a child, playing in the snow or taking a vacation to visit her uncle. Her desk sat on the wall opposite her bed, and her closet with a long mirror and a standing curtain was next to her wall of photos, and her window.

Esme walked into her bedroom and admired it. The rooms at her boarding school weren't as great, but they were livable. She missed the elevated roof and the echo of her room. But it just felt more lonely.

The butlers dropped her luggage by her closets. They bowed before the princess before swiftly leaving the room, and shutting the door. Esme sighed and sat on her bed, facing the window. The snow outside was now falling more quicker. Perhaps a snowstorm was on its way.

Esme laid down. She knew she had to change into her nightgowns, but sleep plagued her eyes. The song of the wind and the shaking of the trees lulled the young princess to sleep. Her lids began to shut. Her eyes lost vision by the second. She was ready to let the cotton of her bed engulf her-!

In the silent hall, a scream emerged.

It wasn't a scream you'd have when your annoying brother scares you around the corner. It wasn't the scream of dropping something. This was the scream of true horror.

Esme shot right up. Suddenly the sound of nature stopped. She stared at her door and listened for anything else. After a few seconds, footsteps ran past her door. Esme jumped out of bed and scurried for the door.

The door swung open. Esme ran down the hall, following the servants who were rushing down the hall. Turning the corner, Esme realized that the servants were running in the direction of her mother's art room.

Esme continued with the crowd and rushed into the naturally-lit studio. The stampede came to a halt by the paint cabinets. She pushed past the servants, trying to sliver through the openings. She came to the front and looked down. Now she was screaming.

"Mom!? Oh my heavens, Mom!" Esme cried, kneeling to the queen who lay in a pool of her blood. The liquid stained Esme's white gown. The body beneath her was still, her eyes wide open.

Alessandra ran into the studio and came through the crowd. She saw Esme, shaking the queen's body. The blood was spilling out from under the queen and purged the cracks in the marble floors. Servants looked on. Many of them were crying, some were paralyzed with absolute fear, and some had looked away. Alessandra inched closer to Esme and rested a hand on her shoulder. Unlike the other servants, Alessandra had no expression on her face.

"Esme, my lady," Alessandra said, "You need to get up. Let us take the body away-" Esme slapped Alessandra's hand away. "No!" she screamed, "Don't touch me!" Alessandra distanced herself. Esme buried her face into her mother's shoulder, cradling the lifeless body. Alessandra looked around and pointed at two maids. "You," she said, "Get a stretcher and call the Yard. And you, call the police." The two maids bowed and rushed off.

Outside, an owl rested on the windowsill. It watched the princess weeping for her dead queen. It took flight, making its way through the snow and ice that fell. The winds pushed the owl back, but the owl persevered and made it above the clouds. The sky was still grey, but the void was filled by a man who sat alone on a throne made of stone.

The owl landed on his shoulder, adjusting its feet. The man stroked the owl's wings. "What did you see?" he asked calmly, looking into the void. The owl rubbed its head against the man's hair, finding warmth in his white streaks. He nodded, sighing.

"I assume she's going to be joining the table soon," the man groaned, sinking into his seat. "Go," he said, "Make sure she finds her way here." The owl spread its wings once more and dove back through the clouds, to the whirling snow and wind. The bridge of the man's nose scrunched as he let his thoughts consume him. He had never imagined this day to come so early, but he had to admit it to himself.

The queen on his chess board has fallen.

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