Made From Death (The Darkest Queens Series Book 1), page 3
Carriages were lined up down the road as far as she could see. How many suitors would she be meeting today? More than she'd like. She glared down at them from her room filled with riches and wished she could set their teensy tiny unimportant buggies on fire. She could…the thought rose with rapid interest like the swell of the ocean inside of her. She struggled not to give in to the urge to use the magic at her disposal.
After months of growing unrest, there seemed to only be one answer that pleased the people. A king and then eventually an heir. Queen Sienna was happy to rule by herself. In fact, all of the queens were.
But perhaps if the citizens of Pasia considered the kings as a way to help balance the queens, then she could appease them. And decidedly not let her future husband make any decisions whatsoever. She'd have to make sure he understood that before she allowed him on the throne.
So who would be her best match? Whoever was the most pliable.
Carefully, she twirled her staff in her hand and examined it as she had a million times over. Though she wielded it at every hour of the day, even slept with it within arm’s reach, the wood had never worn to show signs of use. A clear glass bulb sat at the top of the twisted handle where a gray storm cloud resided. Small specs of water dripped down the glass where it fogged with humidity. Some days the cloud inside was light and fluffy but other days, like today, the cloud was dark.
The other queens had similar staffs that also allowed them access to the powers they'd been granted. Theirs were topped with the same glass globes that contained other aspects of nature. Farah's sloshed with water. Ambrose's contained a tangle of some sort of vining leaves. Idalia's glowed with fire. As the eldest of the sisters, Idalia had been given first pick, even though the staffs held equal amounts of power.
Sienna was stuck with the last staff. Not that she hated her little storm cloud, no after the past twelve months she'd grown fond of it and its ability to sense her moods. Others had picked up on that little fact too and her servants made sure on murky days to give her distance.
She and her sisters had concluded that to appease the people they needed husbands. They needed heirs. That didn't mean Sienna wanted a husband nor cared to have the same man lying in her bed every night.
Since becoming queen she'd had her share of affairs. Most any man she found of her liking was more than excited to be welcomed to her bed. It was never more than that. They never asked and she never offered. She expected to see some of those faces today. The thought that they might consider themselves at an advantage because they'd already slept in her bed made the queen chuckle.
We must marry but we cannot love. Idalia had been quick to remind them the last time the four of them met in The Tower of Divinity. Idalia had rattled on about choosing a husband based on how well he could be controlled. Sienna was inclined to agree with the sentiment.
Still, she couldn't stop thinking about how much she'd changed since taking her crown. She wasn't certain that either herself or her sisters could love. Perhaps that was what Idalia really meant.
More carriages toting suitors from all of Pasia came careening down the drive. Men of all shapes, sizes, and status would be filling in their largest ballroom already. Women had been invited to the event too—only married ones of course. Queen Sienna wasn't about to offer the entire city a buffet of the finest men in her country. They were hers for the choosing and hers only.
Her guests didn't know what was coming. They were showing up in their formal attire excited with the new prospect of what they thought would be power. What they didn’t know was how exactly the party would begin.
She'd stalled long enough watching as the people rolled up; her presence would soon be required. Plus, she itched for release. Her staff demanded its use daily and she'd fought off the urge to use it for anything big for quite some time. It seemed to please the staff when she used it for trivial things. Now it was hungry and so was she.
The only thing that could satisfy it now was death. Today was good for it too, Queen Sienna thought. A show of power and the reward of watching the light drain from someone's eyes. The first time Sienna had watched someone die she'd been horrified. It didn't take long for her to get used to the bloodshed though. Eventually, when she took the last life before she gained the power of the throne she'd realized she actually enjoyed watching someone die. It was like lowering the flame on an oil lantern until it sputtered out. Or sometimes, when it was particularly bad, it looked more like someone had blown the flame out completely.
Sienna gripped her staff, putting her weight onto it. She pushed herself away from the window. The end dragging against the floor as she walked to the exit of her bedroom.
The room she slept in was lavishly oversized and stuffed to the brim with all sorts of material objects. At one point, Sienna hadn't been a queen. She had been a girl who became an orphan and she knew what it was like to own nothing. But since she and her sisters had found a way to save the country and then came into the powers the staff had, she vowed that she would never have nothing again.
So her room collected objects. Her bed was covered with the finest, most expensive furs. Her walls were adorned with paintings done by artists who had mastered their craft. Any lip or ledge was covered with knick-knacks. Small golden statues, figurines made of marble, a few glass blown pieces, and, of course, books. Anything you could think of she had, even if it wasn't in this room it was somewhere in this castle. And she liked that any moment she could call on her whim and have whatever she wanted before her.
When she left her room and headed toward the ballroom no guards followed her. No guards were posted at her door. She didn't need them. With the warlocks enslaved and the Fae outside of their borders, she and her sisters were the most powerful beings in Pasia.
Conversations flowed down the quiet hall, the chatter of her guests talking amongst themselves as they gathered, waiting on their queen. They hummed like music with a thousand lyrics or maybe no lyrics at all. The murmur of the crowd was almost beautiful until that thought twisted in her head. The beauty was in the way that all of these people, all of these voices, bowed to her. She was a far cry from the sad orphan girl now.
Her laugh bounced off the walls and back to her as she rounded the corner. Not far from the ballroom was a door that led to the room where her royal advisor was waiting. Ophelia had been appointed when Sienna took the crown, another girl who’d risen from poverty. The royal advisor was her official title, but Ophelia was more of a catch-all when it came down to it. She helped dress the queen, style her hair, and she was the go-between for her and the court.
Sienna pulled at the door, stepping in quickly, and letting it slam shut behind her. The heavy door rattled the glass panes on one side of the room, drawing a scowl from Ophelia. The petite woman’s features had hardened, wrinkles permanently creasing her skin between her brows. Ophelia was not the once optimistic girl she used to be. The light in her green eyes had faded, even the shine of her black hair had dulled.
Ophelia gave her a shallow curtsey before her eyes traveled down the emerald-colored dress that draped the queen's body. While the neckline gave away a bit of cleavage a sheer piece of fabric came all the way up to the queen's neck giving her a false sense of modesty.
Sienna slid her gaze from Ophelia back to the glass panels. Instead of looking at her reflection in the glass, she looked through it to the waiting ballroom. The servants had done a marvelous job at decorating, the queen thought to herself.
Tables were set up on the perimeter of the room nearly overflowing with finger foods. Lavender was tucked between plates and propped up in large shining vases. White ribbons hung from the ceiling with sparkling crystals tied at the ends. It made the ceiling twinkle like the darkest night lit by a thousand stars.
Queen Sienna’s high back throne, carved from gold, sat just before what everyone else would consider a mirror. The queen knew better as she watched them from the other side. The wall of mirrors was not only made to let the queen get a good view of the party’s attendance but she wanted to be able to send the Fae a message too. Every mirror in Pasia that wasn't in use was to be covered with a curtain at all times so the Fae couldn’t use them as looking glasses.
Uncovered mirrors could be a source of discomfort for most of the citizens. Queen Sienna enjoyed the way her wedding prospects avoided looking into the glass. On occasion, she caught a fleeting look that was then followed by a nervous laugh or the slightest shift in their body language.
"Does the court favor anybody?" Sienna asked, walking closer to the mirror.
Ophelia cleared her throat. "They seem to think highly of a few of the more wealthy citizens. Jack McHaynes. Thomas Delroy. Lucian Dean."
"Well, at least if they're wealthy; we know they don't need me for my fortune. Who would you pick out for me?"
"Out of those three? I suppose if I have to pick, Thomas is probably the most tolerable of the three."
Sienna took her time searching their faces out in the crowd. Jack McHaynes was a tall man, with neatly managed blond hair and deep blue eyes. His thin lips were always pursed together. Yes, he was in a constant state of disapproval.
Thomas Delroy was quite a bit shorter than Jack. He had met the queen for the first time at her crowning. She had noted that they were the same height. Thomas had curly brown hair and even though his tan skin always gave him the appearance that he hardly got sunburned, his cheeks were somehow always still rosy. What she did find something of a rarity was that gold ran through his iris in such a way that reminded her of a sunflower. As a child, she used to pick sunflowers with her sisters out of their neighbor’s field. It was a fond memory.
Now there was Mr. Lucian Dean. No matter how handsome the man was with his black hair hanging onto his forehead, his dark pine, almond-shaped eyes, and his confident nature, Sienna had the impression that most of the ladies in the city had somehow found his bed.
Even the married ones.
She wasn't sure if she wanted her name added to his long list of conquests. Sienna hummed her agreement and continued looking from face to face trying to remember names. Curiosity about the new faces rose slowly.
She glanced at Ophelia over her shoulder and asked, "And if you could choose from all of the options presented here…are there any winners?"
Ophelia stood a little taller at this question. Her brows pinched slightly as if she was confused that the queen could even consider the other options, but her small smile gave away her excitement. "Well, personally I think Leo Maverick has great potential. He's a farmer. He's kind and well liked amongst the people in his class. He cleans up rather well. In fact, if we got our hands on him he would probably look even better. The people love him. I've heard that he often gives away his extra produce."
Queen Sienna waved Ophelia closer and gestured to the crowd. A silent command.
"He is right over there." Ophelia pointed a finger directing the queen to look through the mirror at a man with light brown hair tied back in a low ponytail with vibrant green eyes. The sharp cut of his jawbone emphasized the square shape of his face. While the queen was almost immediately drawn to the fullness of his lips her attention was quickly diverted to the man he was speaking to. She squinted and stepped forward till her breath fogged against the glass.
"Who is he talking to?" She almost recognized him. In fact, she thought she did recognize him.
Black hair, short and combed away from his face. Beard trimmed short, shaped perfectly on his cheeks. Bold brows over eyes so dark they were practically black and rich golden skin. Most of those features were quite handsome on a grown man. However, as a child his bushy brows looked goofy and his jawline without a beard made him look like a baby. At such a young age the black eyes had been unsettling and his golden skin somehow always looked dirty like he’d been rolling around in the mud. Yes, the queen did know this man.
"I am—I’m not quite sure who that is. Maybe he came from one of the other territories hoping for your favor."
"Yes," the queen said. "I think perhaps he did."
Sienna brushed back the small ringlets of hair that were left hanging around her face and smoothed her skirt. Her heels clicked against the floor as she turned away from the view of her party and moved toward the door. They could not wait much longer or she would never hear the end of it from her court.
"Well, shall we get this started?"
Ophelia swallowed audibly and nodded. With near white knuckles, Sienna clutched her staff as anticipation built inside of her. Power called for death. Revenge called for blood. And Sienna had no problem delivering either of those.
The queen swore as she reached for the door and let herself out of the room that she could hear Ophelia mumbling a prayer under her breath. For a moment, she wondered which god she prayed to and if they would answer.
But she didn't pray to the gods anymore.
She had the power that she wanted and she no longer needed them. Not to mention the gods were fickle creatures, easily angered. Sienna hadn’t been prone to doing the right things that made them happy anyway. It’d been like that her whole life. She disappointed her parents till they had passed and then after that the gods.
After gaining her crown she had prayed one time for forgiveness and the gods had remained painfully quiet. If they wanted to be stubborn then so could she.
Guards stood at attention just before the ballroom doors. This door would take her onto the dais where her throne would have the best view of the spectacle she’d planned to start this party off with.
Three citizens stood in shackles in a line waiting at the wall. Wet streaks glistened on their cheeks and one of them began to tremble as she approached. She couldn't help but grin. When she stopped and passed her staff from one hand to the other all three of the waiting criminals flinched.
Yes, she could use her power. She could use the wind that she had control of to suck the air from their lungs and watch them suffocate. However, she considered herself old-fashioned, and watching them hang from the noose was just so much more satisfying.
"Please, my Queen," the boy at the back whimpered.
The guard behind him kicked at his shin and hissed. "Shut up!"
Sienna leaned into her staff and waved one hand dismissively at the guard. "Let the boy talk."
That was all he needed before the boy, who couldn't be much older than fourteen, began to blubber. "Please, I am unaffected. I do not have the sickness of the Fae. I’m not Impelled. Please, I am of sound mind."
“You would not know. That is the greatness of their power. This is for your own good. I am freeing you from the shackles that those terrible creatures have placed around your mind." She was showing them mercy really.
A sob fell from his lips and she straightened to look at the other two prisoners. A woman in her sixties with her gray hair and tears streaking her dirty cheeks held her chin high and she looked away from the queen. Before her, a man who appeared to be somewhere in his mid-thirties squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. Had he not been in shackles Sienna wondered if he would've come to her castle seeking her hand. Unfortunate that they had been diagnosed with the Impelling.
"Take them to the gallows," she snapped before she turned on her heels and marched into the ballroom with the boy’s wails rising louder than the music. She preferred the sound of sorrow to the sound of the string instruments being plucked away in the corner of the room anyway.
It echoed the pain in her heart.
While she craved the people’s love with some small part of her she knew she deserved their hate. That didn't make her any less fit for the crown; if anything it made her the best person to be in this position. She would do whatever she needed to do to protect this land from the Fae.
The murmurings of conversation died away as she entered and made her way up the dais to her throne. Her gaze skimmed over the crowd, not making eye contact with any one person before she lifted her attention to the back of the room where another platform had been erected. The crowd parted for the sobbing prisoners. The shackles around their hands and feet clicked against the wood floorboards.
Sienna inhaled the scent of the food that had been prepared, mixed with the strong perfumes of the guests. "These three have stood trial and have been found guilty for being under the influence of the Impelling. They are a danger to our safety! I cannot allow those who conspire with the Fae to live amongst us. All of our lives are at risk. For their crimes, they will hang!"
“For their crimes they will hang," the crowd echoed back to her.
Power thrummed through her staff into her being. The time was drawing near. Attention was being split between the queen and the prisoners. The guards who escorted them forced them up onto the stand as they dug in their heels to fight back. All except the old woman who stepped onto the platform as if this would be her last performance. She didn't watch the crowd or the guards. She didn't so much as look at the rope that dangled in front of her, waiting for her neck. She pierced Queen Sienna with her gaze.
Sienna smiled. And the corners of the old woman’s lips tilted up in response. A fleeting grin caught in the corners of her mouth, unafraid. Was she ready to greet her death with open arms? The crystal chandeliers reflected back in the old woman's glassy gaze. Rope slipped over her head. Tightened around her throat.
The need for death was heady and thick, tasting like smoke and feeling like the current of a river swimming through her veins. The entire room held their breath as they waited; together they counted down the final seconds of these lives. When the guards backed away Queen Sienna leaned forward.
The sobs of the young boy rose to an ear-piercing volume. The old woman's lips moved, her head turned just a fraction toward the child. Whatever she said, whatever her last words were, they seemed to calm the boy enough for him to look up and sniffle before Queen Sienna flicked her wrist.
A strong gust of wind blew across the room. Skirts and unbuttoned coat jackets wrestled with the force of air Sienna shot through the party. Her magic knocked open the locks that held the floor up under their feet.
