A/N - New chapter! Forgot to post it yesterday, I was extremely busy. I apologize.
They had had less than an hour of sleep, Cordelia sleeping calmly in Misty's arms while the other's face was buried in light blonde strands of hair. For the first time in a really long time, probably since before her father died, Cordelia did not have nightmares. She usually fought them with sleeping potions and amulets, or staying up until she was so exhausted that her mind could not even function without her sleep. But Misty made her feel safe, and that mixed with the exhaustion of their passionate encounter had made her fall asleep deeply almost immediately. She didn't wake up until she heard steps rapidly approaching her chambers, and as she opened her eyes the door flew open and a crowd of guards, led by Hank, entered the room and pointed at them with their swords.
"You, swamp rat, get up, out of the bed." one of the men told, taking Misty's shoulder and waking her up immediately. The man pulled her from the bed and to the floor, the startled princess letting out a loud scream as he kicked her ribcage and ordered her to stand up. Cordelia sat up, eyes widened in fear as she covered herself with the sheets of the bed and stared at the scene, finding herself paralyzed.
"What— What are you doing?! Leave her alone!" she started screaming seconds later, jumping out of the bed with the sheet wrapped around her body and running towards Misty, only to be stopped to be grabbed by Hank and lifted on his shoulder. "You moron, take your hands off me!" she screamed, kicking the air and hitting his back with her hands as Misty tried to free herself. The southern princess was now standing, each arm tightly grabbed by a guard as they started to drag her out of the room. "Wait, wait! Where are you taking her?! Stop!"
"Stop talking, you harlot." Hank snapped, holding her tightly and then pushing her on the bed once the door was closed. Cordelia crawled up as far she could, scared of what would happen next. Could it be that Hank had gone mad? How could have he convinced his men to accompany him in such a despicable act? Nothing made sense to Cordelia. "I've been your first suitor for years, decades even, waiting patiently to be able to even touch you. I've faked being your best friend, to like the way you treated me every time you refused to go further than just a kiss. But now, now you give yourself to a southern girl you know nothing of. What has she got that I don't?"
"So much, Hank." she told, ignorant of what these words would spur. A hand flew to her face, slapping her cheek with strength. Cordelia's mouth fell open in surprise, her eyes closing as the tears that she didn't even know she was holding back started to fall down her cheek, a reddish mark starting to appear a few seconds after. The room fell silent for a few minutes, and then Hank made his way to the door, followed by his men. "The queen wants to see you, milady. Get dressed."
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"Leave me go, you bastards!" Misty yelled between sobs, kicking the air and trying to stop them from dragging her. She could feel the servants and knights that walked through the castle staring at her with wide eyes before going to whisper between them. She did not understand what was happening, the cold stone under her feet and the breeze of air that she felt against her naked skin making her too confused to think. There was no bigger humiliation than being dragged completely bare through the whole castle, like a peasant who was going to be stoned. They started going down a spiral staircase, only big enough for one person. It seemed to have no end, Misty noticed as she walked trying to not to step or brush the mold of the walls and ground, until she finally saw a torch that lightened a wooden door. The guards quickly opened it, revealing a wide dungeon, full of small jails carved into the walls. They were underground, and for the water drops that leaked through the ceiling, also underwater. Was it possible that the dungeons had been carved under the lake? Suddenly she was being pushed into a damp, dark cell, her naked body hitting a stone wall. She sat there almost unconscious, the room spinning as her vision became blurry. Soon a dirty dress was thrown to her to cover herself, and the door of the cell closed. "I swear to the lord, you will end in flames!" she yelled as she watched them walked away.
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When Cordelia, now fully dressed with a simple blue dress and her hair braided on her back, arrived to the large room, she simply could not believe what she was seeing. Her mother was sitting haughtily on her throne, a guard on each side. In front of her, kneeling and keeping her head low, was Myrtle Snow, dressed with black clothing and with tears in her eyes. Her red hair was a complete mess, making her look more like an old hag than a maid. "Myrtle!" the princess screamed, starting to run towards her but being stopped by her mother's powers, that made her tumble. She looked at the woman with a confused face, then at the queen. She slowly stood up, understanding her mother's message and walking to her throne. "What is happening, mother?"
"Cordelia, my child. I've been so wrong all my life, trusting your life to such a traitor like this woman." the queen started in a melodramatic tone, that Cordelia quickly identified as pure lies. That was what always happened whenever her mother lied anyway, she had learned it when she was a teenager. A small play where her mother would play the role of the victim and the judge, while someone innocent would pay for her actions. "This woman you see here, the one I let taking care of you and raise you, has betrayed not only our family but our kingdom, slaying our guest King Magnus' throat and then presumably killing his wife, Queen Innocence. Anything to say in your defense?" she questioned, turning her face to look at the woman.
"I didn't do anything, Princess Cordelia." the woman told with a strangely peaceful tone. But the young princess was not surprised, Myrtle had always kept calm when someone normal would have been desperate. The woman could seem a cold person at first, slightly odd and loony, but in fact she was both wise and caring. She had always been like that with the princess, to the point she considered her a daughter more than just the princess she had to take care of. "You know it, you know she lies. She's the devil, the one the proph—" the woman kept saying, just to be interrupted by the queen, who with a hand movement threw her against the wall, the following impact against the stones of the floor making her temple bleed.
"Myrtle!" the princess screamed, wanting to go running towards her but finding an invisible barrier surrounding her and keeping her in place. She tried again, and once more, watching the guards get the almost unconscious woman away. She now cried out and let out soft screams every time her foot touched the ground, her bones probably broken from the fall. "Let me out, please let me out!" she hit the magical force with her hands, a desperate attempt to make it disappear and run into her true mother's arms. It was impossible, though and soon she was seeing the woman being dragged to the contiguous room and kneel, the door wide open for her to watch. "Myrtle, Myrtle!"
"The prophecy, my dear! Remember the prophecy!" the woman yelled in what were her last words before her throat was slit.
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Many levels under the ground, in the damp cell she had been thrown into, Misty hid in a corner from the looks of the guards and curled into a ball as the tears fell down her cheeks and echoed against the floor. She did not cry for herself, in fact she did not care that she had been humiliated in this foreign land she was supposed to rule in the future, or that she had been separated from Cordelia without being able to say goodbye. She wondered where the other princess would be, and in what state. The last time she had seen her she was bare, her body only covered by a delicate bed sheet, scared in a in a room full of men— one of them being a spiteful man. "Delia…" the girl whispered, closing her eyes and trying to stop her crying. She couldn't; she simply couldn't stop sobbing. It was then when she heard a voice near her cell, calling her.
"Misty, is that you?" the girl heard, a voice echoing in the cell next to hers, so familiar that it made her heart shrink. It couldn't be, what could the woman be doing in the dungeon. It was impossible, it really was not possible. "Misty, my little princess, are you here? Are you hurt?" the voice asked in a motherly tone. "Did they do something to you?"
"Mother?" she questioned, standing up weakly and walking towards the stone wall. Her feet hurt, a few cuts on the sole making her whimper in pain as she walked. "Mother, is that you?"
"Yes my dear." the queen responded, falling silent immediately after when she noticed the guard approaching them. She did not say anything more, waiting for him to walk away to another corridor of the maze of cells. "Are you hurt?" she whispered.
"Just a few cuts on my foot, nothing more. And you, mama? Are you hurt? Where's papa?" she questioned in realization that her mother never left her father's side. The queen to her king, as she used to say. There was not anyone who did not know that when Queen Innocence was not next to him, something was wrong. Really wrong.
"Your father is dead, Misty." the woman told with a sad voice, trying to be strong for her daughter. "His throat was slit this night, after the feast. I woke up here, with my clothes ripped off and— No, I must not tell you that." the woman interrupted herself, knowing that they couldn't waste time. "I think there was poison in our drinks, my princess. I believe Queen Fiona poisoned us, to circumvent the prophecy."
"What prophecy?" the girl asked in another whisper, quickly falling silent as her mother hushed her up, having spotted another guard approaching them. A drop of water fell on her face, and after wiping it she found the guard's eyes on hers, looking at her with an arrogant stare before continuing his watch and walking away. Soon her mother started talking, telling her what she had observed the few hours she had spent there. The guards seemed to follow a pattern, appearing on the corridor of their left and then walking towards the other end, disappearing to their right. They were only five guards, making circles through the maze, with no apparent escape but the staircase she had walked down. "Mother, what did you mean with a prophecy?" she questioned again when her mother had finally stopped talking.
"In the past, when I discovered I was with child, an old seer that lived in the woods came to see your father and I. She told she had news for us, that involved the northern and southern firstborns. We did not know what she meant until she showed us a parchment with a prophecy written on it. On the darkness of the fourth moon of the eighteenth year, when the sun is down and the moon rises high above the calm water, the supernaturals of the south and the north will meet and mark themselves, to fight the devil that taints their lands and divides them." she recited, having learned the prophecy by heart. "It took us days and deep research in our manuscripts to realize that it involved a kind of creature that we did not know still existed, having been purged from all the known lands."
"Witches." Misty muttered. She had read about them, of how they were believed to practice a kind of sorcery that included healing through spells, ointments and concoctions, dabbling in the supernatural, and forecasting the future through clairvoyance. The last one of them had been supposed to have died exactly twenty eight years before. "Do you mean that there are still witches in our lands? And they are going to save us?" the queen hummed in approval. "But who?"
"There are three of them nowadays, the three supernaturals the prophecy talks about. The first one is the most powerful one, the devil. She has all the powers that you can imagine contained in one human body. That witch is the most dangerous, ruthless person you can imagine." Misty's eyes widened, not needing to hear the name to know who it was. "Fiona of Orleans, she is the devil of the prophecy." the woman whispered, falling silent once more when the next guard walked through the door. "The second one, the witch of the north, has darkness running through her veins, but is a person to be trusted. She is the one you belong with, Cordelia."
"C—Cordelia?" the young girl was startled, not knowing what to say. Witches were dangerous creatures, unstable and powerful, that had nothing but the need to spread fear in her veins. It was impossible that the other girl, the one she had fallen in love with so quickly, that she had given her innocence to, was that kind of creature. "Princess Cordelia? My princess Cordelia?!"
"Yes, Misty. Princess Cordelia of Orleans is a witch."
Well, hope you liked it! Will be continued, and of course reviews will be very appreciated!