Dark Queen by M.A. Roth

Author:M.A. Roth [M.A. Roth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Dark Fantasy
Published: 2020-01-17T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE CLOWN

After killing the maid I had taken a bell that had sat around her neck, I don’t know why I took it, maybe it would serve as a reminder of what I had done. It had taken four baths to clean all of the blood from my body; the maids didn’t question me, but the fear was there in every one of their gazes. I didn’t blame them, I was a monster. I hadn’t see Nierra in a few days, my face was healing but my heart wasn’t. The anger that still lay in me was consuming me, and my thoughts made me believe that I was losing my mind slowly. The monster that lived inside me was taking over and I couldn’t do one thing about it. I stare at the bell now, seeing a disfigured face looking back at me. The eyes are too huge, the nose too big, the mouth too stretched. I look away and stare at the bland white ceiling.

I don’t move as Bea enters, pulling the drapes open, then the noise of her cleaning out the fireplace. It grates on me. She is irritating me humming a song. My eyes shoot to her and I can see her pure white spirit. That isn’t fair. As if sensing me, Bea looks up, her doe eyes all wide and she smiles and it makes me want to rip the smile from her face. I don’t smile back and she stands, then moves towards me. I freeze when her hand touches the bell and then she picks it up. “What a pretty trinket, did Nierra get it for you?” She has referred to the whore’s bell as pretty and said Nierra bought it, as if he had no taste, as if such a thing was fit for a princess; she is insinuating that I am no more than a whore, one who deserves a whore’s gift. She’s the whore, not me. Maybe she should wear the bell.

“You should wear it.”

She moves back slightly. “No. But thank you, Princess.”

“It wasn’t a request.” I sit up, puffing my pillows as Bea takes the bell off the table. Her hands tremble slightly as she pulls the chain on over her head, it rings with each movement. She stands still now, unsure, afraid. I smile.

“Is that all, Princess?” Her voice holds a hint of anger and aggravation.

“No, that’s not all. Take off your clothes.”

Her jaw clenches, her eyes shoot around the room; I wonder what she is thinking? What she fears most? What would snuff out her white spark? I smile, knowing the answer is me. “I won’t ask twice.”

She pleads with her eyes as her hand unties her apron, letting it fall to the floor, then her blouse and work skirt. She stands in her undergarments, hesitating, her eyes meeting mine again, pleading with me as they fill with tears. I stare back at her and she removes everything. Standing naked with the bell around her neck, I look her up and down and her face floods with humiliation.

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