Princess' Journey

Chapter 4

    I hear Anna sobbing beside me, her hands over her face- as not to make eye contact with mother, I’m sure. I look to my father in hopes that he will say something…he says nothing. Not even Anica gets up from her spot. Why is everyone just sitting around? She just killed an innocent woman! Does no one see an issue with that? I can feel my blood begin to boil, and I can tell there is an outburst on the horizon. Someone has to say something! I take one last look around the room, making sure I’m not jumping the gun, but still, no one moves.

     “My sweet Annaliese, did you think your outburst would go unpunished? I am the queen, I will do as I please. And you, my darling daughter, you will not interfere again.” She grins over the top of her coffee mug, her brilliant white canines showing menacingly. She continues with “Because if you do, I may just have my sweet Luther teach that disgrace of a Hellhound, Olek, a little lesson.”

    Before I know it, I’m out of my seat and in my mother’s face. “You will not talk to your children in that way! Having a b***h like you for a mother is hard enough without having to worry about hurting your precious feelings! You call Olek a ‘disgrace.’ No mother, that’s you. I could kill you right now if I wanted to, because you’re nothing but a fu-”

    “Princess! Don’t you think that is enough? You should not speak to your mother in that manner. As both the queen and your mother, she deserves more respect than that.”

    I look behind me and see Leka standing there, the look in his eyes telling me that if I don’t stop right now, I am as good as dead. I compose myself and put on my best “doting daughter” act. Kneeling before my mother, I softly take her hand in mine.

    “Mother, I am so sorry for my outburst. I have been so stressed about my upcoming ball and still having not developed my powers that I am not sleeping well. I suppose it is affecting me more than I realized. I hope you can forgive me, and I am ready for any punishment you may have.”

    Touching the same cheek she struck the day before, my mother raises my head so I can meet her eyes. They’re soft, almost like her old eyes, the ones I trusted with my life. The small smile on her face is the same too. I can feel myself longing for her embrace, the embrace of a mother…my mother.

    She says in an almost cooing tone, “My lovely, I do forgive you.” She looks over at Anna, the same small smile still on her face, “Both of you.”

    As I finally begin to lean into my mother’s soft hand, I feel her nails digging into my flesh. I can feel the blood welling up toward the freshly made wounds. Stunned, I look back up at her, and I no longer see my mother. What I see is the face of the controlling and ruthless queen from moments before.

    With a menacing smile, she says “However, if you have an outburst like that again, I will rip your heart out of that pretty little chest of yours. Now, take Leka and go bury whatever carcass Luther has left in the kitchen.”

    Without looking away from me, she continues with “Annaliese, you can clean up whatever mess Luther made. I want the tiles to sparkle.” Jessabelle stands up, and strides out of the room, Luther bursting through the kitchen doors to follow. 

    “Well Leka, let’s get this over with. Knowing Luther, he left one Hell of a mess.”

    “There is no doubt about that my Princess. Hopefully he kept it in one corner of the kitchen, unlike last time. I never thought we would find all the blood.”

    I look over to Anna, who has yet to move. Olek is at her side now, nudging her with his snout. “Hey, Anna, why don’t you go take care of the horses. I’ve got this.”

    Olek pipes in with: “Come, my Dove. I’m sure the horses are missing you. Besides, Kimber has not been on the trails in a few days, I’m sure she would love to go for a morning ride.”

    I look at Olek, hoping he can see the thanks in my eyes. Anna and Olek leave the dining room, Anna’s face almost resembling Mother’s; expressionless, devoid of any emotion. No! Anna is nothing like that witch. She’s kind and honest. Not ruthless and cold. I shake my head to get rid of the thoughts racing through it.

    Shaking my head, I say through clenched teeth "come on Leka, I want to get this done."

    With a heavy sigh, he responds with “Of course. We should get to the blood before it dries.”

    Walking through the swinging doors into the kitchen, Leka and I are greeted with the horror that awaits us.

    Luther did not keep the mess to one corner like we had hoped. Instead the kitchen looked like a m******e. There was blood on every wall; it seemed as if every floor tile had some drop of red on it. The white marble counter tops are painted red, the double oven and stainless steel refrigerator have hand prints splotched across them.

    Next to the open back door, is what is left of the cook; her face is contorted into a look of fear. She has long scratches from above her left eye to her lower right jaw. Bite marks cover her body, her clothes are torn, and her white blouse is stained red. I cannot tear my eyes away from the scene, not because of how brutally she was killed, but because the blood is calling to me. I can almost feel it running down my throat, warm and satisfying.

    My canines begin to throb, pleading for a single drop of the blood that covers the room. I do not realize that I have inched closer to the bloodied remains, or that I had begun salivating. If Leka had not chimed in at that moment, I would have surely devoured whatever blood was left.

    “Alora, are you alright? You’re looking a bit pale.” He looks from me, to the cook, and then back to me, concern covering his face. “Is something the matter? Blood normally does not affect you this strongly. Perhaps I should take care of this alone.” 

    Without breaking my gaze, I hear myself say in a raspy voice,” That’s alright, I can help. I just uh…I’m just a bit hungry is all. I’ll be fine, let’s get this over with.”

    I toss the cook over my shoulder and begin to walk out toward the back field. The harsh winter wind smacks my face, but the burning in my throat distracts me from the burning of my cheeks. Leka is hot on my heels, trotting behind me but saying nothing.