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Winter's POV:
Blood
I sit straight as a pole in my seat, more out of habit than anything, and regard the man cowering in the centre of the room.
"You want to be able to keep more of the crops you harvest?" My stepmother asks him. Her voice is quiet, like a snake's hiss.
The man gulps and tries to sink himself further down to the floor. "M-my queen, please hear me out. We're starving out in our villages. I-if we were allowed to keep at least s-some of our harvest, then we would be able to work harder."
Levana taps her fingers against the armrest of her throne, as if she's considering his words. The man notices this too, and for the first time a spark of hope enters his sunken eyes.
My heart aches with pity. I've seen this look on my stepmother before, many times over. And I know exactly what it means.
Levana tilts her head, regarding the man with her right eye. "Luna could always use some more hard-workers…"
The man sucks in a quick breath.
"…but I believe I have a much more effective method of motivation than food."
I wince as the man's face, only moments ago disbelieving and almost happy, goes pale with fear. "M-my queen?"
My stepmother ignores him and turns to the tall dark-haired woman standing next to her throne. "Send more thaumaturges over to this man's village." She orders, "Clearly these residents need more motivation, and I don't believe food will quite suffice."
The woman smiles and bows deeply. "Of course, My Queen."
The man's mouth is opening and closing, though not a word passes through his lips. He looks at my stepmother, gazing down at him disdainfully. He looks at the woman, still smiling at Levana's order. He looks at me.
I turn my face away from him so he can't see the pain I know is written so clearly there. If he sees, he will run up to me. He will fall down at my feet and beg and plead with me to change the queen's mind. He will beg and plead until Levana grows tired of his sorrow and orders one of the guards to kill him.
I want to help him, so much. I want to give all of my meals to his village so that the small children may eat. I want to sew them blankets out of the dresses the servants throw away when the nobles grow tired of them. I want to build them proper houses out of strong stone with a fireplace and a second floor and bedrooms and a nursery. But I cannot. Levana would never allow it. She prefers to keep the villages weak and starving, living in what is practically slavery to the higher species in Artemisia, Luna's capital.
Conditions in the villages didn't become so horrible because of her. As far as I know, it's always been this way, regardless of the different sovereigns that have ruled Luna over the centuries. But still, every time I think of the thousands of people starving to death while I live here with a full stomach and snacks whenever I want them… it feels as though an icicle is being driven through my heart.
Levana turns to the guards. "Take him away."
They nod and grab the man by his shoulders. He struggles and kicks as they drag him away, begging and pleading for a second chance, but they're too strong and Levana isn't about to give him that chance.
I can't take it anymore. I shut my eyes, trying to dream myself away from the throne room, to a place where I can't hear the man's cries for help, where I can't see Levana's cold expression.
The door slams and I jump, keeping my eyes firmly closed.
"Are there any more people I need to see today?" I hear Levana's voice say.
"A few, My Queen." The woman at her side replies, "But we can always dismiss them if you wish."
"Ask them what they want ahead of time. If they want the same thing as the ones I've already seen, dismiss them with the same orders. If not, let them in to see me."
I can imagine the woman dipping her head respectfully to my stepmother. I listen to the click of her shoes against the polished floor as she heads for the door. I wait for the tell-tale creak of the heavy wooden slabs opening for her. Instead, all I hear is a loud bang.
Startled, I open my eyes to see a group of guards rushing into the room, a wolf carried between them. Unceremoniously, they throw it to the floor, where it slides to the foot of my stepmother's throne, leaving a slick trail of blood in its wake.
I feel my face turn pale as I look at the wolf. I want to shut my eyes against the scene, but my eyelids aren't cooperating, forcing me to look at the white-blond wolf lying in front of me, and the blood staining his fur pink. His eyes are open just a sliver, and are clouded with pain, but I can still make out their ice-blue colour.
Levana raises an elegant eyebrow in disdain. "It seems that Sir Clay failed in his mission."
"We found him in a place the humans call, "a park"." One of the guards says. "The fur caught between his claws is definitely werewolf fur, but we can't identify who it belongs to."
"I suppose you would want me to send him to be healed immediately Winter?" Levana asks me in a bored voice.
I don't answer. I still haven't processed the scene in front of me. Jacin, my oldest and best friend, the one who's stuck up for me and protected me all these years, is now lying on the floor bleeding from a hundred wounds. The faint rise and fall of his chest is all that tells me he is alive, thank the stars. A future without Jacin's constant comforting figure in it is just unfathomable! Probably because it wouldn't exist. All these years, Jacin is the thing that has kept me going for so long. His steady voice dispersing my visions, the roll of his eyes at my antics, and his smile, the one I so rarely see, that is like the rising sun.
Shaking, I stand up from my seat and stumble over to Jacin's prone body, falling gracelessly to my knees beside him. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face into his fur.
"I'll take that as a yes." Levana says behind me. "Guards! Take him to one of the suspended animation tanks for healing, if you can pry my useless stepdaughter away from him."
I save them the trouble. Taking one last deep breath of Jacin's blood-mixed scent, I let him go, watching longingly as the guards pick him up once again and carry him out of the room. My dress and face are covered in blood, as is the floor. And the walls. Blood is dripping down the walls in a great red flood, pooling onto the floor and filling the room with its stench.
A sob tears through my throat and I shut my eyes, willing the vision to disappear. I long to hear Jacin's voice telling me that it's not real, it's all in my head.
But I don't.
A/N: Bet you guys weren't expecting to hear from Winter!
Finally are favourite insane princess has her own chapter.
Please review!
