Vivian
1024 Words
Three drained corpses lay tangled together at Xalvador’s feet. Their skin was translucent, clinging tightly to their hollow cheekbones. Xalvador raised his head in satisfaction, wiping a thick smear of crimson from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. Thick, black veins rippled across his throat, bulging beneath the skin, but they receded as quickly as they had appeared.
"Clean this up," Xalvador commanded into the empty air of the cell. "And find Vaelen. Tell him to meet me in the solar, for a discussion."
He turned and strode out of the damp dungeon, his dark boots clicking rhythmically against the stone steps. From the corner of the cell, the ink-like shadow watched the king go. Once his footsteps completely faded, the darkness shuddered and dissipated into the stone walls.
"Get some maids to take care of the woman on my bed."
Back in the royal wing, the heavy oak doors of Xalvador's chambers swung open. A young woman dressed in a crisp grey uniform stepped inside, her shoes clicking softly against the marble floor.
"Lady Lyra?" the woman called out gently. "Are you awake?"
Lyra sat up instantly, clutching the silk sheets to her chest. "Who is there?"
"My name is Mina," the woman replied, bowing even though Lyra couldn't see her. "I am your attending maid. The King has ordered your relocation. This room was only temporary."
"Relocation?" Lyra asked, her voice cracking. "Where am I going?"
"To the western wing, my lady," Mina said. "An exquisite suite has been prepared for you. It has a private garden and much better lighting. Well, as much light as we get here."
Mina walked to the bedside, offering a steady arm. "May I help you up?"
"Is... is he coming back here?" Lyra asked, her fingers trembling as she reached out.
"The King?" Mina shook her head. "He is busy with the council lords. Come, let us get you settled."
Lyra locked her fingers onto Mina’s forearm. "Are there others?"
"Yes, two other maids are already waiting at the new pavilion," Mina said, guiding her smoothly out of the bed. "They are setting up your wardrobe. Come, it is a short walk."
They moved down a series of long, winding corridors. The air grew noticeably sweeter, losing the heavy scent of woodsmoke and old iron that defined the King's private quarters. Soon, the echo of high stone hallways gave way to the soft rustle of leaves and the fragrance of blooming jasmine.
"We have arrived," Mina said, leading her onto a smooth stone path. "The girls are already working inside. This is Clara, the assistant head maid. She will walk with you in the courtyard while I unpack your things."
"Welcome, Lady Lyra," a crisp, older voice said from her right.
Lyra felt a firm, polite hand take over from Mina. Clara guided her toward a stone bench surrounded by thick bushes. Lyra reached out her free hand, her fingertips brushing against the cool, velvety petals of a large flower.
"What are these?" Lyra asked, tracing the delicate shape.
"Night-blooming lilies, my lady," Clara answered. "They thrive in the perpetual dusk of the court."
"They feel soft," Lyra murmured, running her thumb over the stem.
She wanted to ask about the man from the night before. She wanted to know why his touch felt like death, and why he had forced her to eat until she was sick. Is he the King always like that? she wondered.
Instead, she swallowed the questions. "Is the weather always like this here?"
"Always twilight, my lady," Clara noted, her tone completely even. "You will get used to the cool air."
"I think I like it," Lyra said. She leaned back against the bench, letting the cool breeze wash over her face. For the first time since leaving her aunt’s house, she let herself simply enjoy the weather.
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In another wing of the palace, a heavy silver mirror shattered against the floor, raining sharp shards across the polished wood.
Vivian, the daughter of a prominent human village chief , stood over the mess. In her left hand, she held a crumpled piece of parchment she had just finished reading. Her breathing was shallow, her chest heaving beneath her tight silk bodice.
She reached down, her manicured fingers selecting a long, jagged shard of glass from the floor. She squeezed it tightly. She squeezed until the sharp edge sliced through her palm, and thick, dark red blood began to ooze between her fingers, dripping onto the shattered mirror.
A slow, chilling smile spread across Vivian’s lips as she watched herself bleed.
"A nameless stray," Vivian whispered, her voice sharp as the glass. "His majesty thinks he can put a nobody in his bed and humiliate the rest of us?"
She tossed the glass aside and held the letter over a burning candle on the side table. The flame caught the edge of the parchment, quickly devouring the ink. She dropped the burning paper into the fireplace.
"Only I can become the queen," she muttered to the empty room. "My father did not send me here to be pushed aside by a rat."
She stretched her hand out toward her personal maid, who was trembling in the corner. "Bandage it quickly."
"Y-yes, Lady Vivian," the maid squeaked, rushing forward with a clean linen cloth and wrapping the wound tightly.
Once the bandage was secure, Vivian smoothed down her dress, checked her expression in a remaining fragment of the mirror, and walked out into the corridor. She needed to find the rest of the other girls.
As Vivian walked out, she didn't see the shadow creep out from beneath the floorboards. The darkness slithered directly into the fireplace, swarming over the burning fragments to completely destroy the remaining ashes of the letter.
Then, the shadow moved across the floor. It found the dripped blood Vivian had left behind, absorbing the red droplets into its dark mass until the marble was completely clean.
With a silent, fluid motion, the shadow glided out the door, trailing directly behind Vivian as she went to find the other human maidens.
- Writer
