Written for TPE BINGO, Prompt – Emerge. The attitudes of the character in this fic are most certainly not that of the writer. Spoilers for the end of Tricksters Queen.
Disclaimer – I do not own Imajane, Aly, Taybur or the Copper Isles, Tamora Pierce owns it all!
The room was too small, the air too hot and her breathing far too frantic. She could hear the roar of the revolution outside the palace and see the traitorous guard standing on the battlements. Why couldn't he have died in the ship like his oh so precious king? If Imajane could have spat poison with her glare the man's back would be burning by now. She paced like a caged flamingo, all pink and white and tall, but even her cold aura couldn't lower the stifling temperature that spurred her panicked stride.
She measured the width of her room as 20 paces and counted them each lap. On the tenth time around she changed her course slightly and stopped at the balcony. The roar was closer and as she watched; a slight movement from the traitor caught her eye. Narrowing her vision she saw the gates open and felt sick to her stomach as the ugly half-raka bitch who had dared to stand against her stepped off a kudarung. Visions of the girl being oh so polite in court and playing everything to her advantage while all the time plotting to take the throne ran through her mind. The thought made a sick rage begin in her chest and spread so she was cold all over and shaking. It was her throne! What right did that stupid child have to it?! What right did anyone have to stand against her.
As she stared at all the filth standing in the palace, her palace, a kind of desperation filled her. She could not stay here like a specimen of defeat for them to gawk at. She was made for better, she was a queen. As she turned and stared around her room for anything that could save her from this utter downfall she caught herself in the mirror. Her hair was mussed, her dress skewed and her eyes were glassy, she looked like a madwoman. Staring in horror she noticed her crown had almost fallen off, hurriedly she straightened it and a sense of calm settled in her mind as she felt the cool metal and sharp stones. She wasn't mad, she was a queen, and she was not going to stay here. Defeat was one kind of end, but there was another way; a way to end her life with a triumph.
Imajane emerged imperiously on the balcony and distantly she noticed that maid, the one with red hair, glance at her. Stepping onto the edge she felt a moment of fear, a slight change of heart. Surely there was another way, she surely didn't have to die because of these scum. As these thoughts ran through her head she saw them all kneel. All lower themselves to the ground for that vile bitch. Luarin, raka and mixed all on their knees for a usurper. No! She wanted to scream. I am the queen! Get up and kneel to me! But in her heart she knew they wouldn't, they were all traitors to the crown. There was no other way; she would not lose her throne to some child who had got above herself. She was Imajane Rittevon and she was a queen. It was these thoughts that ran through her head as she calmly stepped forward and Aly saw a flash of pink plummet to the ground.