Prologue
There were many things the Black Queen was simply born with an innate knowledge of. For instance she knew that her inborn wisdom came inextricably with being carapacian royalty, and she knew that queens in particular were especially intuitive about their sessions. She also knew that the Derse and Prospit she had come to know were not the first, nor would they be the last, iterations of the great Black and White kingdoms. She knew all of this and more with the kind of ironclad certainty that one knows Skaia will rise and set every day without fail. Her knowledge was not limitless, but it was enough to allow her to lead wisely and effectively.
But there were some things she did not understand so fully, and though she would never admit it to anyone, this made her deeply nervous. Since the day she emerged from her growth tank, she sensed an intangible but ever present cloud of apprehension lingering over her mind. As time passed, she grew more and more frustrated at her inability to interpret it. Was it some kind of prediction or doom? A warning? Was it simply a side effect of being born under the influence of the Outer Gods? Whatever it was, she knew better than to simply dismiss it. She spoke to no one, not even her husband, about these looming and nameless fears, but instead silently filtered all of her anxieties into ruling with unforgiving stringency. If it was a warning she was going to make goddamn sure to take advantage of it. She would ensure the survival of her people if it killed her.
She knew that her people resented her, felt the fear and anger radiating from their bodies when she spoke to them, though they were always careful to keep their faces expressionless in her presence. If only they knew, she thought. That I do, I do to protect them. Why can't they see that this war was inevitable? That our role in this universe is to fight and to win? That were I to rule any less harshly they would be unprepared for battle and die out on the field in droves? Her love for her people was the only thing that kept her strong during the long years preceding the war and the violent beginnings of the battle itself. They had to win, she wouldn't allow any other outcome.
There were times that she wondered if her sister felt the same dark cloud in her mind, if she was similarly motivated to victory, but this was another dark spot in her knowledge. Anything regarding the specifics of the enemy's preparation and ultimate role in the war was simply blank to her. Presumably this was to keep the fight as even as possible.
As if that could save them, she thought, smirking and crossing her legs. She was not an especially vindictive woman, but she couldn't help the surge of glee and pride that pulsed through her veins when she thought of her kingdom crushing their opponents. She was born and bred to rule and if she couldn't at least take pleasure in that, then what did she have?
She tapped a button on the arm of her throne, changing the view on the screen before her. She had only one, and it was not a full wall like those given to some of her more prestigious agents, but it was all she required. It was used primarily for communication across castle, but she occasionally used it to reassure herself that all was running smoothly in the rest of the kingdom. Her lips curved upwards almost imperceptibly with satisfaction as she switched off the screen and stood to retrieve her ring from its safe. She hated wearing the thing, but the day's inspections had to be done, and no one could know she'd made a habit of taking it off. Lately she'd even taken to remaining in her chambers and putting it on only for brief screen conferences with her agents, but she knew if she didn't emerge sometime or another person people would grow suspicious. The Queen cringed inwardly as she contemplated the many grotesque bodily motifs the ring's many prototypings forced upon her.
Why in the name of Skaia did that bitch have to prototype a frog of all things…
She hadn't even made it to the vault when her chamber doors burst open. Black shelled guards spilled in as she stood glued to the spot with shock. With an even greater jolt of surprise, she noticed that the small armada was accompanied by three rather high-status agents.
"Wha-"
Her half formed protest turned withered in her throat as the final Dersite walked in. Her fingers curled into fists as the oh-so-familiar, stunted shadow of her favorite little snake emerged from the crowd. Dear Jack always did like a dramatic entrance. He flashed a rare and deeply unsettling grin as they locked eyes. There was a disturbing lack of anger in his expression, she noted with unease.
"Noir?" she growled. "What is the meaning of this?"
Jack smiled even wider.
"Don't fucking move, your majesty."
He motioned to the tall, thin agent beside him, who raised his spear expressionlessly to her throat. She looked around at the guards lining the doorway, hoping for some kind of explanation. They only stared blankly at her. What was going on?
"As your queen I DEMAND to-"
"I'm afraid you're not in charge around here anymore," the tall one cut in. The brute behind him cracked his knuckles menacingly.
"Excuse me? I am your queen and I could have you all exiled for this gross insubordination. Where is my husband? He's going to have something so say about this."
She loathed having to use the king as a threat. It had never been necessary before and the words tasted like tar in her mouth. She could handle herself dammit. But a queen is nothing if not prudent. She knew when she was outnumbered and outgunned. Calling in reinforcement seemed at this point to be her only option.
"Actually my dear," a deep voice boomed from beyond the door. "I'm afraid they have made no mistake."
The tentacled, frog headed figure of the king easily parted the crowd. He fixed her with a cold stare. "You have been sentenced to exile."
Her throat went dry. But she was careful to keep her composure. "For what crime, might I ask?" she replied coolly.
"Treason," Jack interjected. He arched his brow in amusement at her obvious horror as she turned to look at him. She could almost feel her blood boiling. She wanted nothing more than to carve that disgusting smile off of his face. To feel his blood running over her fingers, to hear his shell crack as she tore into it with her teeth…
She took a deep breath. "And what evidence do you have to support this claim?" she asked, her tone hard enough to cut glass.
The taller agent removed his spear from her throat and withdrew back into the crowd as Jack nudged the diminutive agent beside him. The little droll glanced around nervously then held up for all to see: her ring.
Her breath caught in her throat.
"But that's imposs-"
"Clearly not," Jack said as his compatriot pocketed the ring. "I received a recent tip off that you may be harboring sympathies for Prospit, and sure enough today we recovered your ring en route to the White Kingdom. It's a good thing Droll here was able to recover it before the Prospit royals could get their hands on it."
She listened wordlessly to his story, face utterly emotionless. An uncomfortable silence lingered over the room as she continued to stare blankly at the smug argchagent, making no move to refute him. Then without warning she threw back her head and let loose a shrieking, half crazed laugh that echoed in the Dersites' ears. They exchanged nervous glances. There was no doubt about it now, their queen had gone mad. None of them had ever seen her so much as smile before, and her shrill sounds of hysteria were utterly terrifying.
Finally the last echoing peals of her laughter died from the marble hall and she collected herself once more.
"Is that really all you've got Noir?"
She could tell he was trying hard to keep his face impassive but his repulsive self-satisfaction was written all across his face.
"It's all I need, your highness," he sneered. "I think you'll find that taking off the ring in and of itself is very much illegal."
A stout guard near the front nodded his head in fervent agreement as the mass advanced on her ever so slightly. She stood her ground. This was ridiculous; as if there was any way in hell she would ever sell out Derse. She looked beseechingly at her husband.
"You know none of this is true, right? You know I would never dream of helping Prospit," she spat bitterly on the ground at the name of their enemy. "After all I've done for this kingdom? What could I possibly have to gain by betraying you?"
"Just days ago I would have thought the same," the king replied solemnly. "It's not my place to guess at your motivations, all I know is that war changes people, and while there is a chance the archagent is mistaken, I would rather err on the side of caution than potentially lose thousands more lives due to my own blind trust."
He continued as she glared incredulously at him.
"We are so close to winning this war once and for all, and the only way to ensure out victory with minimal lives lost is to eliminate every potentially unpredictable variable."
No. This wasn't happening.
"I'm sorry, but you are hereby banished from the kingdom. The ship to The Badlands will be here in an hour."
Screams bubbled in her throat fighting to be heard and her blood boiled with murderous rage. She quietly swallowed both urges.
"Very well then," she said. Two guards stepped forward and stood by her sides, ready to escort her out. Neither of them made a move to touch her, which was really a smart move on their part. "Good luck fighting this war alone, dear husband. And good luck keeping this kingdom afloat when this worm," she fixed her eyes on Jack, "double crosses you too."
She swept towards the doorway, refusing to look at any of them. They had just about reached the hallway when, almost as an afterthought, she whirled to face Jack and advanced on him. Before any of the guards had could think to stop her, her fingers were locked around his throat. She slammed him into a pillar and pushed herself against him until her lips were just millimeters from his ear.
"You," she whispered. "I will get you for this if it's the last thing I do."
She pulled back to look at him. His mouth twisted into a snarl as he clawed wordlessly at her hand and gasped for air. She looked him up and down then removed her hand from around his neck and turned back towards the dumbfounded crowd without another word.
One thought pulsed red hot in her mind as she stared down the long, black hallway and heard the doors to her throne room slam shut for the last time.
This isn't over.