She felt a crippling, malicious urge to kill him.
The queen leaned her head against her long-nailed hand while listening to her soldier's uneventful report. His boring words on Earth's pitiful news was sending her nearly to sleep; more snow storms in the lands that bent to her will, more restrictions on technology after her little trick years ago, and more resistance from Iceland and its meager allies.
A smile played at the corner of her lips, pleased at the thought – though nothing about the depraved grin was pleasing.
Soon the doleful country would be eliminated from her concerns, never to plague her lovely mind again. How many years had she devoted to this carefully executed and indissoluble plan? Now she would finally have no repentance when Earth became hers. As long as everything went according to her plan.
" . . . Iceland's Princess Cinder has left her palace . . ."
The queen's head snapped in the soldier's direction. "What?"
"General Ze'ev," the soldier began before clearing his throat. "He has reported the older princess is not in her palace."
That insolent little girl, she swore within her head. The soldier continued with his debriefing without noticing his queen had stopped listening yet again.
No matter, she reminded herself with a deep breath. Her 'insurance' would surely find the insufferable wench and dispose of her meaningless hide before she caused a disturbance. This was why, despite her inevitably fatal curse, she sent the squadron of guards to Earth. And now she could commence with other business on a much earlier schedule than she had originally hoped.
". . . their position at the moment is weaker than it has ever been before . . ."
A frown strained the queen's cruelly beautiful features at the imperious lecture she was receiving from a mere soldier. Her subject. As he continued updating her on frivolous matters, she began imagining how enjoyable it would be to watch him cut himself with his own sword.
Position. She of all people knew how valuable a perfect position was – in the world, in politics, in everything. It was her position as the younger of her parents' children that forced her to fight for the throne. It was Iceland's very position on the Earth that protected it from her wrath and curse. It was the only way her plan to destroy Iceland was ever going to work.
Because of the position of a well-placed pawn, she would control the world.
Thinking of the mysterious pawn, she remembered another piece of her plan that needed to be put into play. Like a game of chess against an ignorant player, she needed to think three steps ahead so the victory would be that much more amusing. Raising her head from off her hand, she cut the unsuspecting soldier off midsentence.
"Bring me the advisor's son."
Though taken aback by his queen's abruptness, the soldier nodded and left to fulfill her orders after giving a stiff bow. After her parents' unfortunate and completely unexpected deaths, the royal advisor became useless to a self-assured woman like Queen Levana. Useless people had no place in her palace – or kingdom. However, despite her disposal of his father, she saw no reason to waste a boy who could be easily persuaded to her will.
Strutting in more than overly self-confident with himself, the young boy was graceful as he bowed and addressed his queen. Wearing the uniform of a royal guard, she vaguely recalled naming him as one in her personal battalion to give him a position close to her manipulative needs.
He tossed his blonde hair out of his eyes and plastered on a thin smile. "You rang, my queen?"
"Indeed." Around the armrests of her throne, she curled her pale fingers. "I have a very important job for you."
"A job like you gave Miss Cress?"
Her smile fell brusquely at the mention of the insolent girl she just recently managed to rid herself of. She was aware the two had words; they both lived in the usually empty halls and the boy couldn't be bothered by her unique condition. They also shared a similar family situation, but never did she imagine such blatant distaste.
The queen replaced her smile with a tighter, fiercer one. He may know what happened to his father, but he still serves the kingdom above all else, she reminded herself.
"As a matter of fact, yes. The Earthen kingdom Iceland, have you heard of it?"
His gloved hands tightened into fists, both answering her inquiry and confirming her suspicions that he would do anything for his people.
She lowered her head to gaze down at him. "The ruling king and queen were recently found dead, leaving their kingdom in the incapable hands of their oldest daughter. Recently, we received word that the princess has abandoned her royal duties and left the kingdom to her younger sister.
"Princess Winter hasn't the faintest clue the procedures of running a country, let alone protect her people from my wrath. For our people, there is no greater a chance than now to crush the threat of their resistance. I need you to place yourself next to her, as a diplomatic advisor, claiming to be a negotiator between Iceland and the Moon."
"You want me to make sure all her decisions are beneficial to you?" His use of 'you' instead of 'we' made her lip twitch, but she nodded. Eyes of wintery blue found the ground and traced along the rune patterns etched in the floor. He contemplated his options – follow the orders of a woman he loathed or assist a country he loathed even more?
Tired of waiting for his answer, a sharpness found its way into her voice. "Will you agree to these terms, Jacin Clay?"
At his full name, he glanced up at her, confliction no longer twisting his face. This time, he smile wasn't thin and perhaps just as maniacal as her own. "When can I take off?"
Book One has been completed! Thank you to everyone who is keeping up with this story! There should be more sooner updates now that my life isn't so busy.
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Malika DaughterOfWisdom: Sorry it took so long for an update, but to answer your question, very soon. Either the next chapter or the chapter afterwards.
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