In no time at all Aless was practically best friends with the Queen. It hadn't been hard, as they were quite alike and the Queen was extremely lonely, and she respected the girl for not showing fear anytime she lost her temper. As such, it was no surprise that the rest of the court hated her, and the King himself shied away from her, not only because of her outgoing and fearless attitude but because of how close to and protective she was of the Queen. He knew that if he wasn't careful she would be the reason he lost his head.

Iracebeth, Aless soon found out, was a highly unpredictable creature. Her emotions spiraled out of control like a tornado, and her mood swings could put a pregnant woman to shame. She had to be very careful around her at first, but as she grew to know her and understand her she found herself becoming less guarded, more open. Iracebeth too began to feel more at ease around the strange young girl, perhaps more-so than she had ever felt around anyone. Perhaps that was why on a dark moonless night about a month after Aless had arrived, she found herself divulging all her insecurities regarding her marriage.

Alessandra, in the few short weeks spent in the Queen's presence, had come to realize several things. While the woman did indeed have a quick temper and was extremely self-centered and selfish, she was also incredibly insecure and lonely. She hid those emotions, locked them away and refused to acknowledge them, but Aless could see them bubbling beneath the surface and threatening to burst forth, especially when the King snubbed her or denied her attentions. It made her grow hostile toward the man, as the more time she spent with Iracebeth, the more she grew to like her and begin to feel protective over her.

Thus, she soon discovered through various sources that not only did the King have a tendency to allow his eye to wander, but that Iracebeth, deep down, felt unlovable because of it. This made her inexplicably angry. She wasn't sure if it was because the King was perhaps being unfaithful or if she just felt that everyone deserved to be loved, but whatever the reason she began to hate the King. She took to discreetly following him around the palace, taking joy in the way her movements added to his paranoia. Between her spying and his fear of Iracebeth he began to devolve into a stuttering, nervous mess. Aless grinned at this development, taking pleasure in the paling of his face whenever his gaze landed on her. She knew she only had to be patient, for with his nervousness it was only a matter of time before he slipped up.

Because of this, it was no surprise to her when, one night when the King was away, Iracebeth let slip her fears, her face paling as she did so and causing her to nearly drop her teacup.

"I think he's seeing Miwana," Iracebeth said, her eyes going wide as soon as the last sentence left her mouth.

Aless would have found the sight amusing if not for the fact that the woman had just revealed her deepest fear and her face was a mask of shock and terror. To her credit, she didn't flinch, her eyes didn't widen, she didn't gasp. She simply lowered the teacup she had been drinking from, not that she cared for the drink without liberal amounts of sugar. Iracebeth watched her every move, tense and ready to flee or execute her (though for the first time the thought of murder filled her with an unbearable nausea rather than glee). Green eyes met worried brown, and for the first time Aless put the pieces together completely.

"I think," she said, standing and rounding the Queen's chair, "that his highness doesn't realize what he's got." She hugged her from behind, pressing close against her and wrapping her arms around her chest loosely. For a tense minute, she wondered if she'd be thrown out and subsequently executed merely for trying to comfort the broken woman. Finally, the redhead leaned back into the embrace, allowing Aless to prop her head atop the fiery curls. "I think," she whispered, "that he's a damn fool and if I ever find proof that he's cheating I'll castrate him and make him eat it."

That got the reaction she was hoping for. The redhead burst into laughter, though if one looked they could see the sadness lingering in her eyes. Aless hurt for her, and wished more than anything she could take away her pain. She didn't have it in her heart to reveal to her that she had nearly everything she needed to fulfill her promise of bodily harm.

The King snuck back into the castle as quietly as possible, hoping like hell he wouldn't be caught. That girl, Alessandra, had seemingly been everywhere as of late, managing to catch him at the most inopportune of times. He slunk through the hallways, and when she was nowhere to be found he allowed himself to relax and let down his guard. He began to smirk as he thought of his late night conquests, and though he and Mirana hadn't actually slept together (yet, his mind supplied), they had done everything but. He subconsciously wiped at his lips and cheeks as he thought of her lips on him, teasing him with what could be.

"Oh Mirana," he groaned, images of her splayed and bare before him running through his mind.

Aless, from her hidden place in the shadows, narrowed her eyes. So he had been cheating on Iracebeth, and with her own sister no less! Her heart spasmed as she realized what this meant, and how hurt the woman would be. Quickly, she dashed down the hall, keeping to the shadows and positioning herself just outside the royal bedchambers mere seconds before the King rounded the corner.

"Well, well, well," she said, keeping her voice low so as not to awaken anyone, most especially the Queen, "back from a little outing are we?"

The King jumped, his heart nearly stopping as he took in the silhouette leaned casually against the wall. Dammit, and he'd been so close, too.

"It's not what you think," he said, drawing himself up to his full height so as to look imposing, though a small voice in the back of his mind whispered it was futile. The girl was scared of no one except perhaps Iracebeth, and even that he wasn't certain of. "I merely had a late meeting with some advisors and guards as to the political situation in the west."

There, that sounded convincing, surely she'd believe it. The flash of emerald quickly let him know he was wrong.

"Let's try this again. Where have you been?" Aless asked, a threatening growl slipping into her tone.

The King knew now that he was in deep trouble. She obviously had overheard something somewhere about his less than pure intentions with his sister-in-law, and he knew he had to think very quickly to avoid being mauled.

"Fine, so I was out. But it was merely to scope the lands for the best place for a summer palace, you know how my love has been longing for one."

If possible, the brunette grew even angrier. Did he think she was so stupid as to believe his lies? How dare he? Furthermore, how dare he speak of Iracebeth with such tenderness when every move he made drove a stake further through her heart?

She was down the hall in seconds, her steel-like gaze pinning him to the floor.

"Shut the hell up. We both know you were doing no such thing. I know where you were, who you were with, and let me just say you're a bastard. She loves you, and this is how you reciprocate? By trying to fuck her sister? You disgust me."

Anger flared in the man's stomach. How dare she, a mere servant, a nobody, speak to him this way? He was a King, and would be treated like such, especially by a small girl.

"Hold your tongue, girl!" he snapped, his indignation masking his fear. "I am the King, and you will treat me with respect!"

He knew he had made a mistake the moment her eyes darkened.

"You are no king of mine!" she snarled, throwing a punch.

It connected squarely with his jaw, and he was certain he heard something pop before the immense pain set in, causing him to howl. She clamped her hand over his mouth, cutting off the sound, body tensing as she listened for any sign that someone ad been awakened or guards alerted. When none came she shoved him to the ground, stepping forward and grinding his crotch into the floor. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, the movement sending another bolt of pain through his jaw and adding to his misery. She leaned forward, using every ounce of her weight to cause agony. He began breathing heavily, colors blurring his darkening vision. She seemed to realize he was about to pass out, because suddenly her weight was gone and her face swam in front of his.

"Know this," she hissed, her nails abruptly digging into his chin, "if I did not care for her so deeply I would tell her of your little crush. This is your last chance. Break off this little fling with Mirana or so help me your life will become hell, what little will be left of it before you lose your head."

She let him go, and he sagged against the floor in relief, thanking the gods it was over. His last thought was not to underestimate her before her boot collided with his head and sent it into the wall, successfully knocking him out. She knew that, when he was found in the morning, he'd simply say he had been drunk or had tripped or some other ridiculous excuse, anything to keep his dignity (and head) intact. As she headed through the corridors to her own room she couldn't help but hope he'd show Iracebeth the love she deserved, though she knew in her heart that would never happen.

The day Iracebeth found out about her husband's infidelity was a day Aless would never forget. The morning seemed normal, the court bowing and scraping and groveling, a game of croquet, villagers begging for assistance with crops. She didn't know who had told her or how they'd found out, but she vowed that if she found them they wouldn't live another day.

It was the first time she'd seen the powerful woman cry. The anger came first of course, along with the stinging feeling of betrayal, and her face had turned the most impressive shade of red the girl had ever seen. The King, who'd been fairly close by, paled as her eyes locked on him. Aless, though she hadn't been aware of what had been said, figured it out fairly quickly and locked her own eyes on him, hatred and loathing flowing forth in waves.

The court went silent, as they knew someone was about to lose their head.

"Racie, I can explain-" he tried to say, but was cut off by her scream of rage.

"OFF WITH HIS HEAD!"

The court, stunned and out of the loop, didn't dare to move, but Aless, who knew exactly what was going on, marched up to the man and calmly slapped him. Hard. She then grabbed one of his arms to lead him away, and it was then he began to struggle. In one fluid motion his arm was bent behind his back at an extremely unpleasant angle, and she was hissing instructions to stay quiet into his ear.

"Unhand me, you filthy urchin! I am the King!" he shouted, refusing to be silent.

Aless glanced at Iracebeth and noticed the tears brimming in her eyes, and her resolve hardened to put him in his place by any means necessary. A loud snap rang throughout the room, followed quickly by a wail of agony. Using his pain as a distraction, Aless pushed him to kneel in front of the woman.

"Admit to the world what you've done, you son of a bitch," she growled, her voice ringing clear.

The other courtiers leaned in so as to hear better, still confused about what was going on.

"Never."

He screamed as she forced his broken arm further back, dislocating his shoulder as she did so and reducing him to whimpers. The court watched, horrified, as she effortlessly injured their King. They had never had reason to fear her before, but many were now suitably afraid.

"Do it."

Unwilling to risk any further disfiguration, the King gritted his teeth and began to speak.

"I have been unfaithful to her Majesty," he hissed.

Gasps and whispers rose around the room, silenced by Aless' harsh glare.

"And what do you deserve?" she asked, darkness slipping into her voice.

There was only one answer that would make her happy and save him from additional humiliation, so he gave it, though it nearly killed him to do so.

"Death."

His execution was held later that afternoon. It was against her normal procedure, as she preferred morning executions, but Iracebeth didn't think she could stand the sight of him one minute longer. Aless stood beside her as they led him to the block, her hand resting on the back of her chair in support. Tears stung her eyes as they had all day, but she held them back, determined not to show weakness in front of her subjects. What hurt the most though, was the knowledge that he didn't regret his actions. It was written on his face, beneath the terror and pain. He was proud of what he'd done, and that realization hurt more than the act itself.

As his head fell into the appointed basket, she felt something in her shatter, something irreparable. Her pain began to fade, fuel her inner anger, and mere minutes after the beheading she flew into a rage the likes of which the palace had never seen before. Even Aless made herself scarce in the hours that followed, unwilling to put herself in the line of fire though she desperately widshed to comfort her. Later, after she'd calmed down she wasn't sure how long she'd ranted and raged and screamed, she only knew that the only things that resulted from it were several ripped paintings and smashed ornaments.

Eventually, she did manage to cool down, and an overwhelming sense of emptiness spread through her. She was unlovable, unwanted, undesirable. Lonely. Broken,

Slowly, a tear made its way down her face, cutting a path through her makeup. It was followed by another and another until she couldn't see through them, and before she knew it she was sobbing. Her heart and soul stung, the wounds fresh and old alike burning with sorrow. And so she released her pain, the tears that had been threatening to overwhelm her all day finally succeeding.

Aless could have sworn she had marked a path in the rug from her pacing. She was worried about Iracebeth, desperately wanted to comfort her, but didn't want to intrude upon her mourning. A knock on her door drew her out of her thoughts and away from her path, and she answered it quickly, glad for the distraction. A nervous looking maid stood on the other side, her hands twisting over themselves and her eyes riveted to the ground.

"Yes?" Aless asked, managing not to take out her anxiety on the poor girl.

"It's the Queen, Ma'am," the girl said quietly. "She's terribly upset and frankly we're all of us frightened a great deal."

"What's she doing? Still screaming and throwing things?"

"No Miss, weeping." Aless froze for a split second, but her hesitation allowed the servant to see she was on the right track. "None of us have ever seen her Majesty so distressed. It's quite worrying. We'd hoped that, since you're her favorite, you might get to the bottom of what's causing this strange happening."

"What's causing-" Aless said in disbelief. Did they really think so little of the woman that they believed her to be incapable of emotions other than rage and jealousy? "She's just lost her husband, you twit!"

"But Miss, it's her own fault that he's dead."

The brunette's gaze turned cold.

"Yes, I suppose so. But then, you don't truly understand, do you?"

With that she swept past her and down the corridor in search of Iracebeth. Confused and feeling as though she'd been chastised, the maid called after her.

"She's in her bathing chamber!"

Aless showed no indication that she'd heard but silently sighed in relief.

She found her as the maid had said. Upon entering the royal suite she'd passed several servants, all with looks of stupefaction painted on their faces. 'Idiots,' she thought, 'the lot of them'. She entered what she called the bathroom warily, unsure of what she would find. What she saw was not what she expected.

Iracebeth was sitting in her large bathtub, staring listlessly at her lap. Her face was bare, her eyes red and swollen, evidence she'd been crying. The tear tracks had long since dried, leaving streaks underneath her eyes and leaving the girl wondering just how long she'd been in there. It struck her then, staring at her with no makeup, her hair down, and naked, just how tiny the woman actually was. Compared to her head her body was downright petite, and Aless wouldn't have been surprised if she could encircle her waist with one arm easily. She looked so vulnerable and anguished, and her own soul throbbed in sympathy.

She treaded over to her loudly, lest she startle her, but she received no acknowledgement, not even when she lightly touched her shoulder.

"Iracebeth," she said, and at the sound of her name the woman burst into tears again.

Frowning, and wishing she'd taken care of the King when she'd had the chance, she gently coaxed the woman into facing her, pulling her to rest against her when she had done so. Her tears soaked her shoulder, and she even released a few of her own, allowing them to slip into the bright curls underneath her face. She shushed her, stroked her hair and allowed her to cry herself out. When the wails turned into quiet hiccups she moved to stroking her back, her mind idly noticing how silky her skin was. Finally, when all that could be heard were sniffles, she turned the woman back around and readjusted her. When she was settled, she drained the water and replaced it with fresh, courtesy of the hot spring that was located on the grounds.

"Come on, Iracebeth. Clean up and I'll wash your hair."

She spoke as if speaking to a child, though the woman did obey and began to wash herself. As promised she selected a shampoo from the various assortment and began lathering it into the red curls, noticing the woman relax as she did so. She had never realized until that moment not only how beautiful the redhead was, but also how long her hair was. It took her forever to wash it, and by the time she was rinsing out the soap the Queen was nearly asleep, exhausted from her tears and soothed by her ministrations.

Aless helped her out of the tub and dried her off, sliding her night dress over her head. They entered her room together, but when she saw Iracebeth's face fall as she gazed at the bed she knew she couldn't sleep there. She wrapped an arm around her waist.

"Come on, you can sleep with me tonight, and tomorrow we can burn the bed."

Iracebeth gave her a weak smile, the first she had given all day. Beaming back, Aless led the way to her own room, glaring at anyone they passed and daring them to speak. They made it to her chamber without incident, by which point the woman was barely conscious. Aless tucked her in, keeping an eye on her as she changed for bed herself and noting how she fought sleep until she slid in the bed behind her. She pulled her close, pressing herself against her back and feeling the last of her tension melt away.

"Goodnight Iracebeth."

"Goodnight Alessandra. Thank you," Iracebeth whispered, feeling something akin to love stir in her heart.

Her answer was a soft kiss pressed against her shoulder, and through it she felt more love than she had in her whole life. She sighed, her heart beginning to settle, and thought perhaps she was better off for having done what she did.