The Scowling Queen
Prologue
The title, Arthur knew, would linger with him beyond the grave. It would sustain itself in the teeming history of Spades and the words would be etched upon the burnished stone of his tomb.
He was the Queen with the frostbitten lips and the shattered-glass heart. He would be featured in nursery rhymes, his name ringing villainous on the mouths of children. They would spin stories of his life, question if he was truly made of flesh and blood rather than of ash and ice.
He, the Scowling Queen, would be poetry. And Arthur supposed, with the taste of acid, that at least he would be remembered.
He often wondered how his tale would be told after his passing; sometimes he even played it out inside his head.
The author would neglect to mention his true beginning; his naivety and enthusiasm and his love for his King, because Arthur had loved William even if that love had been wispy and fine as air itself. Acknowledging any of these details would only serve to destroy his infamy. According to all records, the Scowling Queen must have entered the world scowling and would depart from it the very same way. Arthur didn't doubt the latter.
In actuality, Arthur had been every bit of that covetous, dewy-eyed youth when he had been selected as the next Queen of Spades, to rule alongside King William IV.
Rigid tradition, the crux of antiquated Spades, dictated a Queen was to be plucked up from the assortment of contenders presented to the King once they had all come of age. Potential Queens, children of high-standing military and academic lineage, were painstakingly groomed to become the ideal monarch from infancy. Arthur, being one of these children, had spent all his life, up until that point, being educated on how to become the seamless, swanlike Spadian sovereign. Not only to equal the Queens he would be succeeding, but to excel; to outshine his predecessors.
The most notable practice of the Spades Kingdom, differing from its neighbouring countries, was the way in which the Queen themselves had to behave. A Queen of Spades was an emblem of the Kingdom, they were much like a timeless jewels secured under lock and key to be carried under the crook of the King's arm.
The King was a figure for the people, standing alongside his knights in battle and interspersing with the troubles of the folk of Spades.
In ancient Spades, Spadian Queens would be hidden away inside towers, only to have the eyes of the King upon them. The laws were marginally less severe now, Queens could mingle with their people, if need be, but they could not be touched by another unless authorised by the King and, other than their faces, not a slither of skin could be shown.
Even a Queen receiving an unpermitted kiss on the hand was high treason. It was madness to think that there had been Queens who had attempted to have affairs. All of these Queens were used as an example, enforcing Spadian laws, their stories told with disgrace and their bodies disallowed to be set to rest in the royal mausoleum.
In truth, the Queen of Spades was merely an ornament, a small, embellished bauble pendant from the fingers of the almighty King.
Arthur had barely scraped eighteen years old when he had been chosen.
The King had sauntered into the waiting room decorated with possible Queens, each of them like spring butterflies in amber, their spines pencil-straight and muslin-sheathed hands folded precisely across their laps. William didn't say a word, leaving only seconds after his arrival. Arthur's first thought was that he had been unsatisfied with all of his suitors.
Arthur had been the last to make his leave and had reached the doorway when a messenger had materialised in front of him.
"You are to be the future Queen of Spades."
Before breath had been drawn, Arthur's life had been overturned and carried into the whirlwind.
The morning of the wedding and coronation had been the last time the Scowling Queen smiled and only his ladies in waiting had been there to see it. That fateful dawn had been pallid; the sun emerging white and ghostly beyond the castle walls. Despite this, Arthur had smiled from the moment of daybreak, wistful and lasting at the thought of his future.
Arthur imagined he had visibly wilted as he had walked down the aisle, shedding petals with each step. William didn't look at Arthur when they were addressed at the altar, he didn't look when he pushed the invaluable Spadian wedding ring on to Arthur's finger, he didn't look the crown was settled atop Arthur's head, condemning Arthur as his Queen, and he didn't look when he unwrapped Arthur out of his opulent, white wedding garments on their marriage bed.
The first and last to see the Queen bared and he didn't spare a glance.
As soon as the painful and unromantic consummation was over with, William had already got himself dressed in preparation to leave.
There, deserted amidst a lavish, oversized bed, the extent of his immaturity finally made itself known.
Of course, Arthur didn't glaciate immediately but the process quickened after watching William seduce maids and errand boys, one after the other, each of them disappearing into his quarters, giggling. The tether to William was never severed though; the King always assured that Arthur knew of his place. His visits to Arthur's quarters were infrequent but that didn't stop Arthur from only ever half-sleeping in dread of William's next appearance.
And thus he became the Scowling Queen, an unmoving, untouchable work of art. Diamond-sharp and shimmering like a hand painted wintry landscape, entirely out of reach in his many layers and ever obscured by his icy jewels and glacial eyes.
No one could love a Queen. Especially not the infamous Scowling Queen.
And therein was the story of Arthur. Well, the story so far.
Woah, what's this?!
After having not updated this story for nearly two years, I have taken down my previous work. I realise this is perhaps the opposite of an update but bear with me. As much as I have always been in love with this idea, I don't know whether I'm the best person to write it. I think the reason for my lack of updates was because I was just so unhappy with my writing. So, I've decided to rewrite it and I'll have to see how it goes from here. I really hope I'm not setting myself too high.
A huge apology for the delay and thank you so much for all the positive responses I've got from this story, I hope it's not been entirely given up on! I also hope this isn't too... dramatic.