I don't normally write in 2nd person; but I like to vary my writing styles. It's boring otherwise.

Also, I know that I'm deep in the troughs of other stories (He Smiles for Her, mainly), but this is for a contest on DeviantArt. So if by chance you're a member of the Fire Emblem Club on DA... be sure to vote on the Valintine's Day Contest.

And read the other stories; they're wicked.

Furthermore; please review. You'll make me feel all warm and fuzzy and whatnot.

A creak of the door announces the appearance of another person. You turn, eyes falling upon the slim form of a boy. His hair is messy, the calluses and blisters on his hand suggesting that he's a servant of the manual kind. For a brief moment you thank the Goddess that you're not a servant like him; servants like him died,often. "His Majesty orders that you bring the Queen her supper, and... her medicine." His voice is horse, as if he's far beyond his years.

You nod in understanding, not saying a word, and turn back to your work. You've been living in the Daein castle for four months now, managing to stay fairly invisible; which is good. The servants King Ashnard know well die, often. Then again, a lot of people die often here. Why'd you come again? Oh yes, your mother was ill, at least now you have some money to send her home every week. It's not bad work, your jobs tend to consist of moving things from one area of the castle to another, and bringing the Queen her meals. Recently Ashnard has been making the servants sneak something into the Queens drinks. He calls it medicine, but you have your doubts.

Not that you'd say anything; you're not that loyal, especially when it would undoubtedly cost you your life. A few more seconds pass and the royal chef hands you the tray of food. You carry it just out of his sight before taking a vial out of your pocket and pouring its contents into the drink. The liquid turns a dark black in color before fading away. There's no sign of the tampering you've just done.

You don't say a word as you enter the royal chambers. The queen no longer sleeps in the same bed as the king; instead she's in a smaller, but still luxurious, bed in the corner. Her cheeks and eyes seem to cave in, giving her the impression of a skeleton. There's been a huge change in the queen since she had the miscarriage. Few know about the queen, even fewer about her pregnancy. She lives in the shadows of Ashnard; hidden from public eye. You set the plate down in front of her, then bow and turn to leave.

"Ashnard?"

You stop and turn just as Almedha opens her eyes. She seems to look right through you.

"Ashnard…?"

"No m'lady," you step forward, voice soft.

"… Where is my son?"

For a moment you're silent. "You had a miscarriage, m'lady."

"No… I want my son. My son… give me my son…" The woman is crazed; but can you blame her? There's no love in Ashnard's heart, and you know it. The baby was probably all she had left of the crumbling relationship; and now it was gone too. She was going insane; and making herself sick. There was nothing you could do for her, so you turned and left without a word. It didn't stop her from crying out. "ASHNARD! ASHNARDDD! I WANT MY SON! GIVE ME MY BOY! ASHNARD!!!