My fairy queen
The golden goblet in the king’s hands fell to the ground, making a loud and resounding clack, spilling the liquid that had barely been touched all over the marvel floor. But it was muffled down by the cries of joy and hope from those present. King Alcott could not quite understand what Abba has said, because his mind could simply not believe it. It wasn’t true, it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be.
The king, undaunted, watched his second wife, incredulous. The two looked at each other as if no one was in the room with them. There was no noise, and there were no people. Just the two of them. But it wasn’t a look of recognition or one of the possibilities, no. The king’s gaze wanted to see through Abba’s mask, which was cracking under the power of his intimidating authority.
Lady Abba couldn’t hold her smile any longer, and she looked away, hiding her eyes. While his veins burned like fire, he knew something very important, and that he was the only one capable of understanding about what Lady Abba was doing. She wasn’t just a pawn manipulated by her father, no. Lady Abba was a willing participant. She was the sharpest weapon the king of Bodoro had, and Alcott had fallen into their trap. The moment of realization came to him as if from heaven, or hell in this case. Like lightning, the king raised his head, watching, horrified at all his people, and the implications of all this. Were any of them with Soto? The king looked at each of the house representatives, asking himself if they had betrayed him or were in complicity with that king bastard. Right now, Alcott couldn’t trust anyone. They were all enemies.
The king instinctively turned his head in the direction of his queen, and what he saw made his turbulent heart flutter even more. The queen was with her spine straight, her head held high, and her face devoid of expression. But that was not what hurt his heart, it was the single, and lonely tear that ran down the pale cheek of his beloved Amberjill. Alcott was devastated.
“Your Majesty, a toast to the prosperity of the kingdom of Mahala and good fortune to the new royal family.” Soto’s voice brought the king out of his terrible mind, to reality. He watched the snake that dared to stand in front of him, pretending, to offer him a new glass of wine.
Alcott weighed his options in seconds, concluding that he only had one way to go at the moment. The king accepted the goblet, and trying with all his might to contain his fury, said, “Let's drink to the future of Mahala.”
Applause and shouts resounded throughout the place, but Soto silenced everyone with the movement of his hand, turning his attention to the queen. “My queen, this is a huge celebration, won’t you toast with us for the wellbeing of Mahala’s heir, as well as King Alcott’s second wife?” The cruel grin that formed on the lips of this evil man could only be seen by Amberjill, but she no longer cared.
The queen, with her voice icy like the winter wind, responded, “Let us drink to the future of Mahala.” Soto already knew that the queen could not refuse, and he had a servant ready who was carrying a tray with a jug of wine and a single chalice. He took a goblet and filled it with the liquid, offering it to the queen.
Shadow, who was aware of every detail, was immediately behind King Soto, but it was not him he sought, but his King Alcott, who was visibly disturbed. He, making signs and gestures at his king, managed to wake him up from his stupor, making him react.
As the queen reached out for the goblet, Alcott snatched it from Soto’s hands, passing his own goblet to Amberjill. Soto was surprised by the king’s behaviour, cursing all the gods for his bad luck. But he didn’t say anything, just smiled slightly, thinking that there will be a next time for this.
Shadow, who was still behind King Soto, sighed in relief and vanished back into the crowd.
“Let’s drink to the future of Mahala.” The king said, raising the goblet into the air, then each of the participants drank, to the last drop.
After the toast ended, King Alcott said, “I need to excuse myself for a few moments from this celebration, my queen is tired and needs to retire to her chambers.”
The king held out his arm, and Amberjill took it as she did a thousand times before. The two marched out of the event hall, heading for the chamber that Queen Amberjill had chosen, the two of them in terrifying silence.
“My king, my king,” Abba’s voice was heard in the distance, but the king did not waver in his steps, leaving all the banquet guests behind.
Amberjill obediently let herself be led by the king, with no encouragement or motivation to make herself heard. The queen had no words that could express what she felt or thought. Her mind was empty, and her heart more.
Despite his desire to explain himself, the king was unsure of what to say or how to do so. His beloved would not believe him. This was a dead end for him. However, the only thing he gained this day was knowledge - he realized that things could not continue as before. However, the king was hopeful, because he discovered the missing piece of this puzzle. Unfortunately, he has to fall into their trap to be reviled. Now he knew where to pull the thread to undo the skein, and in a short time, his kingdom and his life will be under control again.
Upon reaching the queen’s chamber, the king hesitated to let go of her hand, not wanting to stop feeling the contact of his beloved’s skin with his. His mind and body are starving to have intimacy with Amberjill by now. He needed her so badly as if he were a youngster who was just growing hair on his face. He wanted to prolong this moment, even though the queen was loathing his touch.
Alcott knew that Amberjill had him accountable of everything that happened today, after all, although he did not know anything about what was planned, he authorized it, and in the most stupid way.
The king held Amberjill’s hands firmly until she fixed her eyes on him. And looking straight into those shattered crystalline eyes, Alcott said hesitantly, “My queen, I.” He took a deep breath, clearing his heart of uncertainty and fear, then continued, “My beloved queen, everything will be fine. May your heart not remain faint. I always was, am, and will be your protector. The man whose heart is in your hands.” Alcott no longer wanted to see the emptiness in his beloved’s blue eyes, so he lowered his gaze, continuing, “You are my Amberjill, my fairy queen.”
