DISCLAIMER: I, of course, do not own any of the registered trademark characters of the licensed WWE (World Wrestling Entertainment). They are being used without permission AND I make no profit from these stories. These are just use for enjoyment (ect and ect….). And the OCs that are written here are mine too…there will be a lot. There will be some sex, don't know when, but it'll be there. And some foul language. Please enjoy.
Broken Throne
Chapter 1
The moon shone over the lush landscape as the night crept on over the Ancient city of Callaway, most of the people slept in their straw beds and curled up in the warmth of their woollen blankets. Only the sound of metal against metal as armoured guards made their slow travels long the cobble stone roads, a horse neighing in a near by tavern broke the silence in the night.
The white stone castle that sat in the middle of the land's capital was busy with the night affairs, bakers baked fresh bread in wood filled ovens, the kitchen was alive with people preparing for the next days meals of the royal court. Maids and servants cleaned the halls and rooms, trash from the occupants of the castle were taken out and brought miles away. Royal guards walked with silence as they watched for any disturbances within the stone walls, the safety of the royal family was always on the top of their priorities.
But one member of the royal family did not sleep in her bed this night, she hardly ever did. She stood at the closed window before her, the amber and white stain glass pattern gave the room an eerie glow from the light of the moon. Her honey colour hair was braided loosely and could almost touch the floor, her clear blue eyes starred at the white tapered candle that sat alone on the window sill. She wiped her hands over her plain satin white gown, her hand then took a long match stick from its holder by the lit fire place.
"My Lady," The young woman heard behind her, the voice belong to another woman, one over two decades older, dressed in tight black leather with a dark metal long sword at her side, her black hair was pull back in a tight pony tail, "Why do you light the candle every night?"
"So that my husband may find his way home." She answered in a whisper.
"It has been many years, my Lady…"
"Seventeen years in fact, Syrah. I am quite aware of how long it has been." The Lady snapped back.
"Then why light it? He will not return. You have sent his brother after him a few years later, the Duke has not returned either. My Lady, you are holding on to a mirage."
"It is not a mirage, it is a broken dream. Perhaps I light this candle more out of mourning than hope."
"I still say you should send me to kill him, it would be my pleasure."
"And what would that accomplish?"
The warrior woman smiled, "It would make me feel much better."
"No Syrah, I will not order him killed, even though I have enough cause to do it. I have more important engagements here to look after, I am responsible for a Nation at war. I will not go chase him in a foreign world and beg his Royal Anus to come back when our own homeland desperately needs me."
"Can I at least kill the whore he lives with?"
"No." The lady struck the match against the stone wall and lit the candle, "She perhaps has no knowledge of us, I do not know what he could have told her about his past."
"What does it matter?" Syrah growled, "If they were here in Callaway, the two would have been tried of treason and executed! Then you would be free to marry another and bare an heir."
"My father chose him for that purpose, Syrah, was my father wrong in his choice?"
"You know how much I loved and respected your father, but I do believe he was wrong this one time. I had informed him long ago of my disapproval of this union."
The Lady starred at the flame gently swaying back and forth in the darkness, "My father's words were more than law to me, I believe in his choice."
"Even if it has caused you so much pain and humiliation? My Lady, how can you live with that?"
"I have to. He is not my concern anymore, Syrah. I have a country that needs their Queen, not a wronged wife seeking answers. Even now my Uncle uses this tragedy to gain favour to over throw me from my rightful throne."
"Only a few of the Senate would support him, most of the Council of Lords are pleased with the way you rule alone." Syrah grinned, "As for your Uncle, nothing a poison tipped dagger will not cure."
The Lady smiled, "No, my friend, let him be."
"I do not trust him, my Lady. He is quite devious."
"He is still my Uncle and the Grand Duke of Callaway, unless we can prove that he is a danger to me, there is nothing we can do. I will not have you assassinating everyone that has harmed me or wishes to harm me!"
"You father ordered me otherwise, but I swear that I will not kill them, unless you command me to…maybe."
The lady moved to her large down filled bed and crawled onto the navy blue covers, "I tire, I have a full day tomorrow, a day filled with councils."
Syrah knew this was her way of saying it was enough for tonight, "Then I shall leave you," The warrior woman bowed, and then opened the large thick wooden door of the chamber, "Sleep tight, Queen Amiley."
"Thank you, Syrah, good night."
The Agora closed the door behind her, the young Queen starred back at the light of the candle that still burned. Seventeen years was a long time in any world, she wondered if he still looked the same? The tight curls of dark red hair that bounced around his boyish face, his bright green eyes shining in the sun.
She rolled over and looked at the other side of her room, this was the room she would have shared with him if he had not left. A single tear ran down her cheek, how long could she lie to the Council of her union? If they knew the truth, they would demand for his head and the woman as well. Then everything her father and his father had worked for would come to a dire end.
Was it just the thought of her father's last wish not fulfilled made her cry, or was it the fact that it was her own heart that was broken. A young girl, not yet a woman, so eager to be married to the man chosen to be her husband. They knew it, they both knew that they would be married when she had come of age. Was she that vile a person who made her husband run away only moments after the celebration of their union?
The queen closed her eyes, she was very tired. Tired of being played a fool, tired of telling the Council of the Prince's Holy Journey and that he would return. Truth? She knew where he was, she knew what he was doing, and she didn't know why.
