Make me your Aphrodite

Make me your one and only

But don't make me your enemy…

Cause once you're mine…

There's no going back.

Katy Perry – Dark Horse

Chapter 1 – Return

The royal announcers pushed open the deep mahogany doors to the scarlet throne room as the Queen's equally scarlet eyes scanned the crowd that were awaiting her presence.

"All rise, for the Hero Queen of Albion."

Hysterical cheers erupted from each crevice of the already tightly pack space, washing over Scarlet and filling her with a sense of empowerment whilst caressing her ego, almost threatening her emotions to spill over into a smile.

Almost. The Queen was far more appeased by screams of terror opposed to delight.

Sauntering into the roped off away gangway, hips swaying seductively catching the eye of every man and woman before her, Scarlet made her way to the throne coated in plush ebony velvets, custom made and treated from the faraway lands of the Northern Wastes. Not many people alive today and present in Albion could recall the forgotten Necropolis, with its lost and sorrowful souls doomed to ponder humanity in a state of limbo somewhere between Avo and Skorm for sins unwritten. Ebony was amongst the Queen's favourite colours along with gold, crimson, and the namesake shade of scarlet.

A shock of peroxide blonde hair fell around Scarlet's face, tumbling from the elaborate bun that sat above her recently re-encrusted solid gold crown that was littered with diamonds and rubies. Full rosebud lips remained unresponsive despite the aura of adoration surrounding her, not once uplifting in the corners of her mouth as a reaction to her subjects. A gold, also diamond and ruby encrusted, pendant fell between her ample breasts, complimenting the intricate gold detailing of the hems of the midnight black dress she had decided to adorn that day. The dress had small, off the shoulder sleeves that dove into the body of the dress, which showcased Scarlet's hourglass figure and aforementioned necklace, before descending into a leap of skirts that both danced and twirled as she made her way to her birth righted seat.

Glancing at the squire that announced her presence, Scarlet took in the youthfulness of the boy that now replaced her old mentor, Walter. Not that the young Hero Queen was beginning to age herself, but rather remained unscarred and smooth skinned despite the many battles she had faced. Rumours circulated amongst the nobles of Millfields and Bowerstone of the great Queen's suspiciously young and perfect appearance. She had always been beautiful, but recently Scarlet was looking less like a natural beauty that would resemble a daisy, hand-picked from the field on a summers day down by the river paths. Instead the comparison was more like that of a preserved rose in a glass jar, unnaturally striking in its beauty, wrapped within the torture of its self-grown thorns. Unfortunately as this analogy suggests, this had also prevented the Queen of Albion from finding a suitable partner to settle down and to start procreating with. Rather, Scarlet had many partners, but always of the sexual nature and always lacking the spark and vivaciousness for chaos that reflected in herself.

The nobles were fools though if they thought that their observations on her life and appearance were missed by the Hero Queen's glowing scarlet orbs and ears.

Settling herself upon her throne, Scarlet waved in dismissal at the young announcer and cleared her throat for the case of today to be presented to her. A quivering servant practically crawled to where the Queen's skirts graced the floor and passed her the rolled piece of parchment that depicted the details needed for her judgement. Scarlet had long ago banned the reading aloud of such parchments as they bored her so and left her impatient for something to sink her teeth into.

A name scrawled at the top of the paper stopped Scarlet in her tracks and grabbed at her attention. Not that she was actually reading the details for the rather tiresome case.

Reaver.

"Send in the debaters," drawled the Hero Queen.

A steady clank of a cane signalled the deviant's entrance before his infamous top hat came into view, shortly followed by a smug grin that seemed to be forever etched into the most handsome face in all the lands. Dark eyes locked with red.

"Your majesty."

The devil himself had returned.