A/N: Yes, it has been too long. I am a terrible person. But here we are trying once more at a new story. I think I have found the ability to stick with a story now. So do, like always, enjoy and tell me what you think. If any ideas of where this abrupt idea should go come to mind, please feel free to shoot me the thought. :) Happy reading.
The World's Turning: Chapter 1
I have lived amongst them for years now, my father taking me under his wing until much recently. My father was a good man, he gave me a life that he believed a little girl deserved. One filled with fantasies and dreams that only fairy-tales seemed to encompass. When the war cast a shadow over our city, my father was the first to claim back his territory. He used to always tell me-a man that does not fight for his land is no man at all. And so I believed him, if I would have known it was to cost him his life I would have thought to prevent his departure. But that time is no longer here nor there and now I find myself bowing to a new ruler. A man that wishes for me to be his queen.
"Sing." He ordered, his eyes roaming my clothing with an ability that made me weary enough to think he could actually see beyond it's barriers.
"I cannot." I offered in return, my emerald orbs glistening to find an object that could keep my trembling self safe from his penetrating gaze.
"What was that?" He quipped. " I'm quite certain I did not just hear a refusal from my betrothed? Did I?" His tone was calm, frightfully so, but the twitch the cast itself in his lip gave way to his building rage. The king was always said to have a temper, how far it truly reigned I hoped I would never see. "Sing." He stated once more, his voice casting a tighter pull as his patience began to filter away.
"Once more, my lord, I cannot sing for you. My voice died the moment my father did. Forgive me, but there is no music within my soul to give." With a gesture to the guard a man was dragged through the doors and placed before my feet. It was then that Gregory finally attempted to stand from his throne, his mouth shaping with a smirk that made his beautiful face gleam with a hideousness that only hell could serve. "See this man my lady?" I nodded. "I swear on pain of death, if you do not sing for me I shall have you watch me spread his entrails before your feet."
My ears feasted to no words that he dared to threaten with, for the man upon his knees had captured every bit of me that could be salvaged. His skin was torn with cuts and burns painted a crimson that had dried to crust and merge with the dirt of his torment. He was frightfully lean and for the area that we resided his skin didn't carry the glow that most of our people had. No, he was like a...ghost, pale, powdery almost, yes a ghost in human form. But what was more peculiar about the man twas that there was a cloth over his head covering every bit of his face, except for his eyes.
"Why does he wear that?" To this the king laughed, heartily so, I suppose my question was more amusing then it summoned itself to be. "You ask why dear child, would you care to take off the sheet and find out for yourself?" He gave no room for an answer. "My curious feline, sing for me before your new found friend here is battered even further." I did as he bid then, my world shattering to a low dull as my voice sought out a home. I don't know when but during my minor performance I had found myself on my knees, as I softly reached to comfort the masked man. Surely the king would not be pleased.
She was an angel if I ever saw one, a stupid fallen angel that would die for me if she wasn't too careful. "Enough." The King roused, his eyes taking on the scene before him with a disgust that embarrassed him amongst the rest that occupied the room. "His life is spared, for now." Her eyes brightened with relief then and before she could pull away completely I faired to bow my head further and kiss the hem of her gown in thanks. Though I did not fear death I certainly didn't wish for it either.
The wounds upon my flesh were nothing compared to the ache that filled me with grief. I had fled from this world, a world of hostility and unforgivingness. And yet somehow I had been dragged back to where it all started. You see I was once a servant for the king, my job being one that left my hands drenched in blood. While the world wished nothing of me I was designed to live down beneath the jail cells-I taught the poor men how to suffer. I was so very good at it-torturing that is, not suffering. Suffering is something that has currently taken my attention.
"Ser Devereux, I find it only fair to reinstate your position." To this the angel furrowed a brow. "Reinstate?" She cooed, her eyes glossing over to shield the life that sprung for my consuming. "Indeed my lady. I was, am, a member of this court." The shame crept through me like a viper waiting to strike; her gasp filling my ears with a dullness that made my head drop to a further low. "That name..." She started, her tiny feet shifting a few paces back. "...I know that name."
"Well by God I would hope so, my dear Christine I would like you to meet Erik Devereux, the executioner." Her eyes flamed with a fire that burned right through me. "You killed my brother, ser." I met her gaze with pride. "I've killed many brothers my soon-to-be queen, my condolences if yours happened to be one of the lot to meet their death." I watched as the betrayal she felt flooded the room before me. The song bird had given me her voice to only learn that I was but another enemy among her. "How unfortunate." She clipped. "He was a good man ser." As an afterthought she added. "Is your face truly how they say, my lord? Does death's head reign on your frail body?"
The spitfire, she fueled the evil within me just as much as she seduced the saint. "Would you care to see, my lady? You only but need ask and I shall grant you whatever you so wish." She looked to her king for guidance my comment gearing the intended fear I'd hoped for. "I think that's all for today. Guards bring Ser Devereux to his rooms and have the maids tend to his wounds. I'm certain this shall be the last time you disobey my orders, Ser Executioner?" With a nod I propped myself to full height despite the pain that ignited from the quick movement. "Indeed my king, your executioner is in your superior debt. I give you my thanks; and to you my lady, you saved my life." And with that the guards escorted me away.
"How did he disobey, my king?" The hummingbird needed answers, her curiosity once again feeding for knowledge. "He grew a conscience my betrothed. Nothing a few whips and chains couldn't fix."