"The wine and the fruit is on the table over there", the maid said, her eyes downcast. "Um...", she hesitated, biting her lip. "Is there anything more that Your Majesty require of me tonight?"
Argath shook her head.
"No", "We wish to be alone. You may go."
The maid bowed.
"As you wish. Goodnight, Your Majesty."
Argath did not answer, having already dismissed the maid from her mind. As far as she was concerned, she was already alone in the room.
Hanging on one of the walls was a picture painted many years ago, depicting the Queen when she was a child, together with her late brother Argeron. If a person were to study that portrait, they would find only a vague resemblance between the cheerfully smiling, bright-eyed girl in it and the Queen as she now appeared.
Back when Argeron was alive, the painting had hung in the palace's gallery. After his unfortunate demise, however, his sister had it taken down and put up in her own room. When she relocated to the royal suite, she took the picture with her. In the past, whenever she felt her resolve falter and long dormant feelings of tenderness towards her father and other siblings would begin to awaken within her, Argath would look at that picture and she'd remember: Remember her brother's demise and the people who, in her mind, were truly responsible for it. Then, her heart would harden and her mind would become polluted by murderous thoughts.
Now that her vengeance had been carried out, however, all the queen felt as she looked at it, was a sense of deep loss. This bothered her and so, she turned away from the painting, annoyed with herself. There was no longer any point in dwelling on the past, she needed to focus on the future. Yes, the future of her kingdom. No, not kingdom: Empire.
Tomorrow, I'm having that painting taken down, the Queen thought to herself. Sorry, brother, do not think less of me for doing so, wherever you are.
Having made that decision, the Queen went over to the table and poured herself some wine. She raised the jewel-encrusted goblet to her nose and after a sniff and a nod of approval, drank a mouthful, then put it down again. Noticing that it had gotten a bit chilly in the room, she decided to light a fire. Crouching down by the fireplace, she breathed on the logs and soon, the room was filled with the warmth of an open fire. She then helped herself to more of the contents of the bottle.
Eventually, the combined heat from the fire and the wine she had been drinking, overwhelmed the queen's senses and she fell asleep in her chair, a string of saliva forming in the corner of her mouth.
The Queen had not slept long before she sat up straight, eyes open. She had felt something brush against her face.
She looked around the room and saw someone standing in a corner: A tall, diffuse figure, wearing a cloak the color of smoke.
"Who are you?" She said, summoning all the authority she could muster. "How dare you enter my chamber? Answer, before I call the guards."
The figure did not reply. Instead, it reached up and lowered the hood that had obscured its features. Upon seeing her unbidden visitor's face, Argath involuntarily took a few steps backwards and tripped on her tail.
As she got up from the floor, the Queen stared at the person in front of her, hardly able to believe her
own eyes.
"No", she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "This isn't possible. You are dead. Dead!"
"True and yet, here I am.
Hearing that voice, which she thought she had silenced forever, caused a shiver to run down Argath's spine.
"I do not believe in ghosts", she said, barely managing to keep her voice steady.
"Who's to say I'm a ghost? For all you know, I could simply be a product of your imagination."
Argath's gaze wandered to the wine-bottle and seeing that there was still some left, she re-filled the goblet and raised it to her lips.
"Is that why you have appeared before me, father?" She asked, feeling emboldened by the alcohol. "To make me question my grip on reality?"
"I have a question for you, my daughter. It concerns your brother."
"If I answer the question, will you leave me in peace? No matter what you are?"
King Sharan nodded.
"Very well", the Queen said with a resigned sigh. "Let us get this over with, I want to go back to sleep."
At that moment, she was struck by a thought: What if she already was asleep and she had merely dreamed that she woke up? She didn't have time to ponder this theory further though, because the next second, her sire spoke to her again.
"Here is my question: What do you think would have happened, had things turned out different?"
"Different in what way? You mean with my brother?"
"Exactly. What if he had lived and inherited my crown, as I had intended. What role would you have served in his kingdom?"
Argath's heart began to beat faster, this was a question she had pondered from time to time and she had always ended up with the same answer.
"Simple", she said. "I would have been his most trusted confidant, his right hand. Together, we would have made Vinoli into the foremost nation in the world."
"No", "We wish to be alone. You may go."
The maid bowed.
"As you wish. Goodnight, Your Majesty."
Argath did not answer, having already dismissed the maid from her mind. As far as she was concerned, she was already alone in the room.
Hanging on one of the walls was a picture painted many years ago, depicting the Queen when she was a child, together with her late brother Argeron. If a person were to study that portrait, they would find only a vague resemblance between the cheerfully smiling, bright-eyed girl in it and the Queen as she now appeared.
Back when Argeron was alive, the painting had hung in the palace's gallery. After his unfortunate demise, however, his sister had it taken down and put up in her own room. When she relocated to the royal suite, she took the picture with her. In the past, whenever she felt her resolve falter and long dormant feelings of tenderness towards her father and other siblings would begin to awaken within her, Argath would look at that picture and she'd remember: Remember her brother's demise and the people who, in her mind, were truly responsible for it. Then, her heart would harden and her mind would become polluted by murderous thoughts.
Now that her vengeance had been carried out, however, all the queen felt as she looked at it, was a sense of deep loss. This bothered her and so, she turned away from the painting, annoyed with herself. There was no longer any point in dwelling on the past, she needed to focus on the future. Yes, the future of her kingdom. No, not kingdom: Empire.
Tomorrow, I'm having that painting taken down, the Queen thought to herself. Sorry, brother, do not think less of me for doing so, wherever you are.
Having made that decision, the Queen went over to the table and poured herself some wine. She raised the jewel-encrusted goblet to her nose and after a sniff and a nod of approval, drank a mouthful, then put it down again. Noticing that it had gotten a bit chilly in the room, she decided to light a fire. Crouching down by the fireplace, she breathed on the logs and soon, the room was filled with the warmth of an open fire. She then helped herself to more of the contents of the bottle.
Eventually, the combined heat from the fire and the wine she had been drinking, overwhelmed the queen's senses and she fell asleep in her chair, a string of saliva forming in the corner of her mouth.
The Queen had not slept long before she sat up straight, eyes open. She had felt something brush against her face.
She looked around the room and saw someone standing in a corner: A tall, diffuse figure, wearing a cloak the color of smoke.
"Who are you?" She said, summoning all the authority she could muster. "How dare you enter my chamber? Answer, before I call the guards."
The figure did not reply. Instead, it reached up and lowered the hood that had obscured its features. Upon seeing her unbidden visitor's face, Argath involuntarily took a few steps backwards and tripped on her tail.
As she got up from the floor, the Queen stared at the person in front of her, hardly able to believe her
own eyes.
"No", she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "This isn't possible. You are dead. Dead!"
"True and yet, here I am.
Hearing that voice, which she thought she had silenced forever, caused a shiver to run down Argath's spine.
"I do not believe in ghosts", she said, barely managing to keep her voice steady.
"Who's to say I'm a ghost? For all you know, I could simply be a product of your imagination."
Argath's gaze wandered to the wine-bottle and seeing that there was still some left, she re-filled the goblet and raised it to her lips.
"Is that why you have appeared before me, father?" She asked, feeling emboldened by the alcohol. "To make me question my grip on reality?"
"I have a question for you, my daughter. It concerns your brother."
"If I answer the question, will you leave me in peace? No matter what you are?"
King Sharan nodded.
"Very well", the Queen said with a resigned sigh. "Let us get this over with, I want to go back to sleep."
At that moment, she was struck by a thought: What if she already was asleep and she had merely dreamed that she woke up? She didn't have time to ponder this theory further though, because the next second, her sire spoke to her again.
"Here is my question: What do you think would have happened, had things turned out different?"
"Different in what way? You mean with my brother?"
"Exactly. What if he had lived and inherited my crown, as I had intended. What role would you have served in his kingdom?"
Argath's heart began to beat faster, this was a question she had pondered from time to time and she had always ended up with the same answer.
"Simple", she said. "I would have been his most trusted confidant, his right hand. Together, we would have made Vinoli into the foremost nation in the world."
King Sharan looked at his daughter skeptically.
"Is that so? I must confess, I have a hard time seeing it. After all, Argeron possessed many fine qualities, but I can't say that ambition was one of them."
"Mine would have been enough for us both, he would have followed my advice."
"Mine would have been enough for us both, he would have followed my advice."
The King shook his head.
"Most of it, yes, but deep down you know that any plans for conquest you'd have proposed, would have been firmly rejected. Argeron might have been the kindest member of our family, but he was not weak-willed."
Though she did it with reluctance, Argath had to admit that her father had a point.
For a brief period of time, neither of them said a word. They just stood there, looking at each other: Parent and child. Living and dead. Murderer and victim. King Sharan was the first to speak:
"Ultimately, your brother would have had the last word in all affairs of state. How long before your affection for him would have turned to frustration and resentment, I wonder?"
"How dare you?" Argath hissed. "That would never have happened. I loved my brother more than any other member of this family. When I heard off his death, I felt as if a part of me had died with him."
"I know very well that your grief was real. No-one, including me, felt the loss of the Crown-Prince, more deeply than you. However, underneath all the grief, there was another feeling, wasn't there?"
"Oh? And what feeling could that be? Enlighten me, father, since death have obviously granteed you the ability to gaze into the depths of my very soul."
During their conversation, King Sharan's face had been impassive. Now, something resembling a smile spread across it. He said one word:
"Relief."
Argath felt the blood rush to her head. She grabbed the nearest available object, the wine-bottle and with a roar, hurled it at the king. It smashed against the wall, breaking into a million pieces, the remainder of its content staining the wall.
The Queen looked around, she was all alone in the room. Had it all been a dream, after all? She pinched herself hard in the arm and winced. The pain was real enough. Then she heard a voice inside her head, faint like a whisper.
"Farewell, daughter. We shall meet again, in your nightmares."
"Most of it, yes, but deep down you know that any plans for conquest you'd have proposed, would have been firmly rejected. Argeron might have been the kindest member of our family, but he was not weak-willed."
Though she did it with reluctance, Argath had to admit that her father had a point.
For a brief period of time, neither of them said a word. They just stood there, looking at each other: Parent and child. Living and dead. Murderer and victim. King Sharan was the first to speak:
"Ultimately, your brother would have had the last word in all affairs of state. How long before your affection for him would have turned to frustration and resentment, I wonder?"
"How dare you?" Argath hissed. "That would never have happened. I loved my brother more than any other member of this family. When I heard off his death, I felt as if a part of me had died with him."
"I know very well that your grief was real. No-one, including me, felt the loss of the Crown-Prince, more deeply than you. However, underneath all the grief, there was another feeling, wasn't there?"
"Oh? And what feeling could that be? Enlighten me, father, since death have obviously granteed you the ability to gaze into the depths of my very soul."
During their conversation, King Sharan's face had been impassive. Now, something resembling a smile spread across it. He said one word:
"Relief."
Argath felt the blood rush to her head. She grabbed the nearest available object, the wine-bottle and with a roar, hurled it at the king. It smashed against the wall, breaking into a million pieces, the remainder of its content staining the wall.
The Queen looked around, she was all alone in the room. Had it all been a dream, after all? She pinched herself hard in the arm and winced. The pain was real enough. Then she heard a voice inside her head, faint like a whisper.
"Farewell, daughter. We shall meet again, in your nightmares."
There was a knock on the door and then, a male voice called out:
"Your Majesty,is everything alright? We heard screams."
Argath, who had been staring at the broken glass, tore her eyes from the sight and went and opened the door. Two guards stood outside.
"Fetch Us the royal physician", she ordered, "and a servant to clean up this mess. Now!"
As the guards hurried away, Argath raised her hand and clenched it into a fist
Just you wait old man, she thought. Ghost or not; I buried you before and I shall bury you again.
"Your Majesty,is everything alright? We heard screams."
Argath, who had been staring at the broken glass, tore her eyes from the sight and went and opened the door. Two guards stood outside.
"Fetch Us the royal physician", she ordered, "and a servant to clean up this mess. Now!"
As the guards hurried away, Argath raised her hand and clenched it into a fist
Just you wait old man, she thought. Ghost or not; I buried you before and I shall bury you again.
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