A/N: Hello all and welcome to the second chapter of Dark Desires. This chapter will take place in our princess's point of view. I do plan on bringing in some new spells to make our dark protagonist all the more deadly, such as Infernal Wrath that I'm planning to use in Joan Arc's Legend.
By the way, if you have a complaint as to how my princess is acting, remember that this is an Evil!Princess fic. She isn't going to be above killing innocents to get what she wants.
Dark Desires
Summary: When Reaver is bored in the throne room waiting for the king, he and the princess, Annabel, have a talk about her one day taking the throne. He didn't expect to help her in a bloody coup.
*Burn*
Princess Annabel stood in the throne room, having been alone now staring at the throne for some time. Reaver had long since left to tend to his duties in the city and her brother retired to his quarters. And yet as she stood there, she could feel something burning in her chest. 'One day, that will be mine. Albion will be mine to rule as I see fit. And that day cannot come soon enough.'
She knew very well what it was. It was her desire. Her desire to seize the throne and usurp her brother's rule. It burned like a hunger, eating away at her. By Skorm she wanted it, more than anything else in the world.
And she'd take what was hers. 'Albion is mine to reshape as I see fit. Not my brother's.' Her hand became alight with flame and she moved it to create a beautiful but deadly display of fiery magic. This was the very fire that would destroy everything it touched, ravenously devouring everything and everyone who would get in the way of her ambition. Fire was a powerful and deadly element, one of the hardest elements of magic for one to control. In the wrong hands it could and would consume everything in its path, leaving only ashes in its deadly wake. And yet at only nineteen years of age, she was capable of bending it to her will, commanding it with all of the grace of a master wizard.
'Enjoy your comfortable seat on the throne while it lasts, brother. Soon, all of your pitiful attempts of keeping the populace under your control will be for nothing.' She clenched her fist and doused her fiery magic, a dark smile forming on her face. Oh how she'd enjoy the day when she'd dispose of her brother and took Albion for herself.
Annabel left the throne room behind and passed by a pair of elite soldiers. Both men snapped to attention, their faces hidden by their steel helmets. "Madam."
She hid her smile. There would come a time when these men would answer to her and only her orders. And they would obey. They would obey, or they would be burned. They would suffer the infernal wrath of her flames. 'Don't worry. As long as your heart continues to beat, all I will require of you is obedience.'
She was the proper heir to the throne and she'd do anything to make it become a reality. And she meant anything. Even if it meant killing her own flesh and blood. Her ambition would burn everything until she got what she desired.
The princess reached her quarters and started to disrobe, pulling her fancy dress over her head and tossing it nonchalantly onto her bed. She was clad in her simple undergarments and strode over to her dresser, pulling one of the ornate drawers open to find more comfortable attire.
"A busy day in the courts, your majesty?" her butler Jasper asked. The man had been serving the royal family since the late queen, Sparrow, and he had refused to leave the princess's side. He'd be a perfect tool for spreading her word.
"No. Only one appointment so far. The next meeting is in four hours, so I will be taking some time to walk about," Annabel replied. She pulled on a short skirt and leggings, of course dyed a dark red. It was much more comfortable and more casual wear than her royal dress. She fitted on a matching lacy shirt and stepped from behind the changing curtains, smoothing her clothing out.
"Though I am afraid that it has grown rather...tiresome." The first step on her path to the throne was to start with one who was close to her. Jasper was perfect to be used as a pawn.
"Your majesty, I apologize if I offend you in any way, but you did ask for the king to give you a more prominent role in his court," he said.
"I'm not talking about my court duties." She shook her head. "I for one find the politics of the royal court to be quite fascinating. I'm talking about remaining in my current position."
"What do you mean?" Jasper asked.
"Come now, surely you've realised it?" Annabel pressed. "You've seen how the nobles and common folk look at my brother. They have grown restless. Discontent is spreading amongst the populace and it is merely a matter of time before they've had enough. Sooner or later, Albion will be divided by a bloody civil war."
Jasper coughed, old eyes agape with shock. "Y-your majesty, that seems preposterous! I know your brother is not the most popular, but surely the people are not thinking of removing him from the throne?"
"Oh, they are." The princess smiled coldly, noticing with hidden delight that her butler shuddered. "They are too afraid to speak it out loud, of course, but when one studies them in how they interact with him, even an untrained eye can see they are growing unhappy with him. The people are starting to speak, Jasper. It appears as though that time has indeed come."
"What time?" he asked nervously.
Annabel smirked and called on her magic, flames dancing on her fingertips. "The time for a new leader. Albion is crying out for one and there is no better candidate than me." 'Pathetic. Just a few choice words and already I have even the royal butler under my thumb. I have a lot to thank you for, Reaver.'
The man had given her ambitions the spark they needed earlier today. At first, she was unsure if she should take the steps he suggested. But after their talk in the throne room today, she was positive. If she wanted to become queen, she needed to remove any obstacles that got in her way. 'Starting with the people in this castle loyal to him.'
"Your majesty, please listen to reason," Jasper pleaded. "What you are insinuating is treason! You could be executed for this!"
"Treason according to whom? The people of this land who have spoken, or my brother?" Annabel smirked and drew patterns in the air with her fire. "If they truly wish for change, then I am sworn to listen to their cries and act accordingly." 'Even if they don't, I will still follow my ambition through to the end.'
Jasper was silent. It was clear to her that he never expected this from the princess and she continued on. "Albion has grown tired of my brother and I will dispose the land of his tyranny and those who follow him. It is rather simple, Jasper. Either they surrender it peacefully, or I take it by force and eliminate any who stand in my way."
"E-eliminate?" He was practically shaking in fear now. Good. About time they realized the power she held at her fingertips.
"They will all burn." She threw a stream of fire at one of the many windows of her bedroom, shattering it. Bits of broken glass fell on the floor, some of the embers igniting the curtains. The ravenous flames of her magic consumed them hungrily, feasting on the soft fabric until they were completely gone. Only a few charred pieces of metal remained and she smiled cruelly. "That is the fate of those who will dare to stand against me."
Jasper swallowed a lump in his throat, trying to regain his composure. He didn't want to show fear around her, lest she use it as a weapon to manipulate him further. "Your majesty. I swore to your mother that I would stand at your side regardless. But this? I can't allow you to throw our kingdom into war."
Annabel merely chuckled and stepped closer, her fiery magic still flickering at her fingertips and yearning to burn flesh and bone. "Is that a threat, dear Jasper? Do I hear you disobeying my mother's wishes? Perhaps I ought to make another example of what will happen?" Her flames shone in his face, desperately licking closer and closer. The very tips of the flames licked at the lace collar of his coat, singeing it, and he recoiled. Sweat was pouring down his face from the sheer heat of the fire and Annabel could practically taste the fear that rippled from him like a wave.
"That's what I thought." The princess lowered her hand and gave him a fake cheery smile. "Now if you'll excuse me." She brushed passed him and left her quarters behind. A cold rain had begun to fall and she strode out into the gardens, the walkway guarded by a pair of regular soldiers. Their red coats were recently pressed, but she noticed that their facial hair was starting to get rather scraggly and unkempt.
She smirked as she approached them. Undisciplined and unkempt men like them were not fit to be in such a vital role. She had to make an example of them now; otherwise the soldiers that would be under her command would be lazy and undisciplined. She couldn't have that.
"Oh, my princess! Forgive us for not noticing you sooner!" The soldier closest to her snapped to attention, recognizing her royal status. However, as smart and crisp of a salute as he gave her, it was not enough to make her waver.
She stopped in front of them and clicked her tongue in disapproval of their appearance. "What is your name?"
"P-private Daniels, your majesty!" he answered. His rifle was secured onto his back via a leather harness and the princess's hand became alight once more.
"Private Daniels. Do you have a family here inside the castle?" she asked with fake sweetness. "Or perhaps in the city?"
"A wife and child," he answered dutifully. "With all due respect, why?"
"Because it means your widow will receive compensation." The princess blasted him with a deadly inferno. His partner, horrified by the display, went to help him when Annabel put her arm out to stop him. "Do not help him. Unless you wish to suffer the same fate as well?"
The stench of burning flesh filled the air and he retched, though the princess remained unfazed. If anything, it was intoxicating. She could feel her magic groan happily as it consumed the screaming man. It yearned for more and the hungry flames continued to eat away at his flesh until his agonized screams died and his thrashing limbs ceased. His limp body was slowly reduced to blackened ashes and she watched with sadistic glee as the rain washed them away.
"Do you wish to be spared?" she asked. "For me to show mercy?"
"Y-yes!" the remaining guard answered quickly, nodding nervously. Sweat poured down his face and he backed away from her. It was nice to see how a supposed sweet young woman was able to make a trained soldier whimper in fear.
Annabel looked at the fire flickering on her fingers and back at the man. His back was against the wall of the castle and with horror he realized he could not retreat any further. He was trapped.
A cold laugh left her lips and she lowered her hand, letting her magic fade. "Then you will obey me. I order you to remove your facial hair at once. And tell the others that they best do the same. Otherwise, I'll make an example of them just like I did your friend." She gestured with contempt at the ashes that were being washed away.
"As you command!" The guard hurried away to do as she ordered to prevent from invoking her fiery wrath and she chuckled. Word would spread throughout the castle in hushed whispers and within days she'd have the soldiers within the castle itself at her beck and call. They wouldn't serve Logan anymore. They'd take their orders from her now.
Just as she wanted them to.
Annabel continued down to the castle gardens, passing by several servants. They stood upright as she passed, bowing their heads to show their respect for her. "Your majesty. Good afternoon."
The princess stopped in front of one young woman, perhaps the same age as herself. She already had the soldiers and nobles kneeling at her feet, but now she needed the more common people on her side. Starting off here in the castle with the servants was a good place to start.
"Hello, my dear. What is your name?" she asked with fake sweetness. Her tone was akin to that of poisoned honey; deliciously sweet but hiding deadly intentions. With her skilful tongue she'd have the servants fawning over her before the sun set on the horizon.
"Candace, your grace." The servant kept her head bowed. She was remarkably kept compared to the two scruffy soldiers she dealt with only moments prior. Not a single strand of her silky brown hair was out of place, the lace on her dress perfectly cleaned. Annabel smiled. She was a perfect role model for the others.
"Candace. What a beautiful name." The princess stepped closer to her and tilted the girl's chin up with one finger, her dark eyes meeting those pools of melted chocolate. They were deliciously pure and innocent. It was hard to believe the woman hadn't been courted yet.
"How would you describe your life here in the castle?" Annabel asked, feigning ignorance of the servants' treatment. She knew perfectly well her brother hired an abusive drunk to be the steward, but in order for her scheme to work, she needed to pretend as though she did not have the slightest clue as to what was going on.
"Well, everything's perfect, your majesty!" Candace replied hastily. Too fast, Annabel noticed. She was lying.
"You're lying." Annabel shook her head. "Tell me the truth."
"W-well..." Candace stuttered and looked down with a storm of fury brewing in her eyes. "I hate it! Every day, that bastard Alastair yells at us from dawn to dusk, beating us with whips even when we do something correctly! It's horrible. He's horrible! If I could, I would leave the castle and go live down in the city. But I just can't afford it, so I take the undeserved beatings."
Annabel gave her a smile, though its nature could not have been darker. "Do not fret, dear. I think you'll find that you and the rest of the staff will no longer have to fear his drunken wrath any longer. I will see to it that he is taken care of."
"You mean it?" Candace's eyes began to shine with unshed tears of joy, relieved by the princess's words. "Oh, your majesty, we will never forget this! We will do anything you ask of us. Just please make sure he doesn't harm anyone else. Poor Poppy still hasn't recovered from the last beating."
"Of course. I shall see to it at once." Her magic would once again taste the flesh of innocents. She felt no qualms about killing anymore. Her ambition to become the ruler of all of Albion had taken her morals and spat on them. Such petty things like honour would serve no purpose apart from holding her back from her desire, her throne. The sense of longing burned in her chest and she left the young servant alone, heading towards the steward's quarters.
As she approached, she could hear the sharp crack of a whip along with the high pitched screams of pain as it struck whoever the steward was lashing. Her powers roared up at her command and she entered to see the castle steward, Alastair, whipping a young man. His blue shirt was ripped and bloody and he let out a pained whimper as he was shoved onto the ground.
The steward raised his arm to lash his back again when he saw the princess standing in the doorway with her hand alight with flame. "Princess? What are you doing here? Come to watch me work?" He gave her a sleazy smirk.
"No. I'm fulfilling my promise." With her eyes cold she blasted him with a deadly blaze. Her fiery assault ate away at his clothes and flesh and he fell to the ground with a scream. The servant he had been whipping stood aside, still partially bent over from the agony he had been forced to endure.
Alastair's limbs thrashed uncontrollably as he tried to desperately douse the flames bent on consuming him, his foot kicking over a chamber pot. A foul assortment of unpleasant stenches hit the princess's nose and though she wrinkled it in disgust, it only made her magic burn hotter.
His hand reached out to grab a nearby pot of water and Annabel stomped hard on his wrist. Her boot twisted and she heard the sound of bones breaking. The man screamed and she leaned down to spit angrily in his face. "Your tyranny is over, you pathetic little coward. All I want is to see you suffer."
She stood back to let her fiery magic work, crossing her arms across her chest. The steward continued to thrash in pain, but his struggles were going weaker and weaker. In time his body stopped moving entirely and this time, the princess ceased her fire before it turned him to ash. Such a repulsive bastard like this did not deserve that.
More than that, it would serve as a great reminder to not let her hear of the servants' cries anymore. With this kind of display, she had those men and women at her feet. One step closer to her ambition. One step closer to the throne.
One step closer until Logan himself burned.
A/N: Mmmm...nothing quite like writing delicious murder XD. I hope you enjoyed. See you next time!
A Lovestruck A2#5371