Queen for All
She was a Queen to all, but to him — one of the biggest annoyances, hindrances, curiosities and saviors — she was merely a girl. He was a selfish tyrant to all, but to her — one of the biggest nuisances, hindrances, amusements and saviors — he was merely a boy. The boy leaned back against the worn stone wall, a wistful smile playing on his lips as he regarded her with fondness. "Ours wouldn't be a romance which would go down in history books," he remarked with a playful tsk. The girl laughed, the sound echoing off the cold stone walls of the hidden alcove. "What will they even write?" she teased. "Once upon a time — there was a kitchen slave who stole flowers as a side job." "And then, a madwoman found her amusing and decided to make a queen out of her!" the boy added with a chuckle. "Nobody would read it," the girl snorted, shaking her head. "I mean, she went to a magical school! She has no magic! And she lives to tell the tale?! Literally sounds like I made it up on the spot!" The boy nodded in agreement, a nostalgic gleam in his eyes. "Oh, oh, remember the time Grace killed you?" he asked, a mischievous grin quirking his lips. The girl shuddered at the memory, "Ugh, I still get shivers down my spine when I think about it." "We used to fight so much. I think my favourite was when I was spying on you and you were spying on me but we were pretending to be in love?" the boy cackled. "Oh the horror! I was in such a mess— and, well, I wouldn't call it fight; I'd rather call it banter," The girl countered with a smirk. "You were too egoistic and I couldn't stand you!" The boy chuckled, a warm sound that filled the small alcove. "Pity, my kisses got you stuck with me for life now," he teased. "What life," the girl snorted, rolling her eyes in mock exasperation. But beneath her playful facade, there was a hint of affection, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed, "We're already dead." And that's how their first life segwayed into a second chance. Will they achieve a happily-ever-after this time?
| to find enemies
"Did you arrange for it?"
"Yes, your highness." Cassie passed on a manila envelope and continued, "She'll be our best candidate."
Seraphina slit open the envelope with Cassie's bronze dagger and unfolded its contents. The small packet confined the life of the Grand Duke's firstborn, Eudora Vivienne Montrose, whose potrait represented her as a sickly blonde girl with haggardly eyes, a crooked smile and a charming posture.
"Does hope remain?" Seraphina asked as her eyes skimmed over the crisp papers containing detailed records of the girl's short yet heavily medically inclined life.
"The Grand Duke is considering changing affiliations with the churches," Cassie whispered as scandalously as she could.
A small smirk slipped over the Queen Dowager's lips.
"Dabbling with magic, I believe?"
"Creature Magic," Cassie corrected, the scandal not leaving her tone, "He's been writing to other continents and Kalmia, Narkissa and Mattholia seem inclined to help."
A giddy rush of emotions overtook Seraphina's being. It was an opportunity like never before, thrown into her lap like she was destiny's blessed child. Nonetheless, the situation did not only encompass her own interests but someone's life — albeit miserable and bordering non-existence. Seraphina frowned and folded the paper, her eyes wandered around her open bath for merely a second after which, she said, "Put the girl out of her misery and prepare the invites for the Founder's Ball."
"But— Your highness! You're still in grieving! And the Queen—"
Cassie's hushed whisper was zipped up by Seraphina's hand raised to command a halt.
"Just because I am grieving does not mean I am ungrateful," she flicked the pages in Cassie's arms, "This is the perfect opportunity to steer the King's attentions and lay our foundation. Strike when he's most vulnerable and secure our position."
"Do you think that girl will be able to succeed...?" Cassie gathered the pages and folded them neatly, words and tone not as sure as her hands and fingers were.
"Well, she must. Or many will die for nothing in her stead."
The girl in discussion clenched the sides of her dress. Her brain shouting, "Run, Run, Run," on repeat, though all common sense had exited her system.
Amidst the tranquil Grate Lake, where the azure waters shimmered like sapphires under the gentle sunlight, stood a magnificent bridge adorned with intricate carvings as if depicting a story with its ruby embellishments. The bridge arched gracefully over the tranquil waters, its weathered stone surface adorned with vibrant hues of moss. Surrounding the bridge were cherry blossom trees, their delicate pink blooms casting a soft, ethereal glow over the grass and water.
They swayed gently in the breeze, their fragrant blossoms perfuming the air with a sweet scent. There were some trees bent gracefully towards the water, their branches trailing in the gentle ripples of the lake, whilst others stood tall and proud. Among those tall trees, one of them bore a white swing that moved to and fro as if extending into the gates of heaven.
Daisy was beyond mesmerized by the swing. Her eyes stayed still and heart went into a flurry of pitter-patter against its cage for it so wanted to sit on that swing.
Though her brain, rotter of the moment, kept reminding her to run away. If she were to jeopardize her identity then the Thomas' would suffer!
Daisy gulped, aware of her place in the world and how little she could do to choose frivolous moments of happiness. She turned on her heel, ready to depart, when her body rammed into a person. A tall being dress in a black cloak with a hood deep enough to let its face remain a mystery.
Daisy's heart jackhammered in horror but no scream left her throat.
The man rested his big, gloved, hand over her shoulder and urged, "Stay." He turned her to face the lake again and before she knew it, he disappeared as swift as he appeared — leaving goosebumps on her body as his only physical memory.
A shout refocused Daisy's attentions to reality.
At the edge of the lake two boys, dressed in lavish silks and bejewelled collars and cuffs, played and their laughter echoed across the water. One boy, tall and athletic, exuded confidence, while the other, smaller and more reserved, displayed a mischievous twinkle in his eye. Beside them was a yellow and white checkered blanket laden with a dozen books and two wooden swords.
The taller boy used the third sword to poke a little girl, dressed like a rain doll, and laughed at her expense, "Look at her head! She looks like an egg!! She only has her face!"
"Chubby, squishy, face!"
The taller boy poked her cheeks with the sword point.
"No, no, I promise I have more than a face but they asked me to dress— AH!" She screamed as the taller boy poked her belly to check if she really had a body, "They told me d-dress," her words broke into a sob, "because, because, I-I don't know!"
"She cries so ugly!!"
"She's like Humpty Dumpty but girly!! Do you want to sit her on a wall?!"
"And push her from it?!"
"Hahahahahaha."
They laughed, in a bubble of their own as she wailed, in a bubble of her own.
Against the good sense of running away, Daisy furiously stepped towards them. She considered fighting but all she had for experience was one incident of Sous Chef Jillian duelling with an assistant chef with a ladel and a rolling pin. The boys, on the other hand, Daisy deduced to be royals with an appropriate training in swordsmanship. She wouldn't stand a chance. So, with her head bowed, back bent and hands in curtsey, she charged, making her presence known with words.
"Good Evening, Your Highnesses. I apologise to ruin your pla—"
"But it is afternoon," the shorter of the two cut in. He pointed at the sun just a bit away from being overhead.
"I apologise," Daisy gulped, "I merely said it because the King and Queen wish to go on an evening walk, right now, and your mother, who remains aware of you having skipped classes, wishes for you both to return as soon as possible. She says it wouldn't be pleasant if the King discovers you all out of classes."
"Mother knows?!" The taller one all but cried whilst the shorter one tsked, "I thought my plan was perfect!!"
They scrambled away from the girl to collect their books, sparing one glance at the boat floating in the water. They shared a chuckle, unbeknownst to the girls, and ran off.
There remained four books and a sword on the blanket as Daisy approached the little girl. She was covered in white, from head to toe, with the fabric cinched only around her face. The front of her raindoll outfit read, 'Charm,' in yellow crooked embroidery.
"Eh, are you okay? You can stop crying. They're gone now. Are you hurt?" Daisy asked, voice painfully awkward and legs shaking from the previous encounter. It was quite a nerve wracking bluff she pulled with two royal borns, Prince's cousins most probably. If they were to know that they had been conned and find her for revenge...Daisy shuddered.
"I-I-I am not hurt!! I just, I just miss my momma and papa!! They said I looked like an ugly, runny egg as well and I just miss them!!" The girl wailed, snot dripping from her nose as she lunged at Daisy to pull her in a hug.
"Now, now, it'll be fine. I'm sure your parents thought you were Charm-ing," Daisy internally laughed the dumb connection she made.
"No, no," the girl pulled away, still leaking from all parts of her visible face, "I was sold to the Palace because I am a Lucky Charm!" She pointed at the disfigured embroidery on her cloth.
"Oh," Daisy uttered.
"Yeah," the girl smiled a gummy smile. Daisy thought it was quite endearing but when the girl opened her big brown eyes and introduced herself as, "I am Lucielle, but you can also call me Lucky Lucy," Daisy felt a rush of excitement course through her veins.
In the center of the lake, a lone figure laid in a small boat, its silhouette outlined against the shimmering waters. He sat up, slow like a rusty hinged door and narrowed his eyes at the scene before him.
"Are you folks done now?" He scrunched his nose, voice determinedly bored.
Daisy and Lucy jumped into a shocked embrace as Lucy whispered, "There was another one!"
His hair was a dark mess of curls, almost hiding his equally dark and slanted eyes. What was visible of him was dressed in a simple creme shirt — leaving Daisy's thoughts in a frenzy. He definitely did not look like a royal...maybe the gardener's son? The lake rower's son? He sounded too confident to be a small fry though. A nobel? But the Kitchen wasn't informed of any guests!
"Thank you, for getting rid of them," His dark sight found Daisy, "They had been infinitely annoying." His mouth did not move much but his words were loud and clear over the soft rustle of wind and water. It irked her.
"Oh? Then why did you not do something about it?" Daisy couldn't help but snap. Her eyes narrowed at his audaciously bored face.
"Well, I am a man of patience not action," he shrugged.
Daisy couldn't help but look at him with equal parts of flabbergasted and disgusted. He was hardly a man. "Sounds like excuses," she all but snarled at him, then turned to Lucy and asked, "Do you know him?"
"No-not at—"
"Good, come with me then," Daisy cut in, grabbed Lucy's hand and merely stepped forward to leave, only for the boy to use a bent tree branch and jump in front of them like a spring.
"Why," he enunciated, a curious brow raised, "Do you know HER?" His question was directed at Lucy but his eyes never left Daisy's frowning face. He was close enough for Daisy to figure out that his eyes weren't dark black but deep navy.
"Well, no- I don'—" Lucy stammered a reply but he cut in.
"Hands off then," his lips broke into a small smirk.
"I saved her," Daisy all but seethed, "For starters and we can get to know eachother now."
"Oh, you've got a hero complex going on for yourself," he chuckled, brows raising with amusement.
"Ahh! You're my hero?!" Lucy gasped and lunged into another hug, dis-balancing Daisy's footing and almost making them fall in the lake. "I've always wanted a hero! I knew I was lucky enough to get a hero!! You're the prettiest hero I have ever seen!"
To say Daisy was flushed would be an understatement. Her face felt warm, her hands grew clammy and she pulled Lucy off of her with a swift pull. Her eyes wandered and tongue meandered over her lips for words of gratefulness that never came to surface.
People had been grateful to Daisy, indeed, but no one had conveyed that gratefulness as genuinely as Lucy had. To call a plain slave a pretty hero, out of nowhere, was quite overwhelming to Daisy's deprived senses.
"Looks like I've triggered a romance between Beetroot and Egghead," the boy snickered.
"Stop calling her Egghead!" Daisy snapped, frowning.
The boy chuckled, raised his hands in surrender, and said, "I never specified who's who. It's all in your head."
Daisy gasped whilst Lucy patted her circular head with her hand. "I have hair, you know, they're just hidden to keep the lucky charm safe!"
"Of course. See you around," the boy mocked a two finger salute and walked away — leaving behind the abandoned books, blanket and sword.
"He was funny, right?" Lucy chirped, all the while Daisy wondered who he was and how she could ruin him when she was Queen.