Some points: I’m really happy about this, strangely.
: It is going surprisingly well :P
:Ok.. Points: I know I’m being repetitive future me, especially with the forgetting stuff. Fix that.
: I also have a feeling that since I can’t be bothered to scroll back and figure out what everything is, I have got little details wrong. Like Elias’ second name. I have no idea what his second name is. And I like actually don’t care :/
Chapter I actually like don’t know any more.
When I woke up, there was no one at my side. I don’t know why I expected Zephina or perhaps elias to be there. They had their own business and as I had pointed out the day before, I needed my space.
All night I had thought of what was right and what was wrong. But Zephina was wrong wasn’t she?
But accepting that I was queen was hand in hand with accepting that I was immortal. And I knew I was Queen, I had seen it in my death. Not only that, but I had died. I had died in hell and I had woke in hell again.
I was not being rational yesterday. Today my eyes could see clear, although that did not imply I could see light. There was no way forward but Elias. I couldn’t just abandon him when I had got so far. No. And if this was all true, if I did do something terrible and found the Emrys fountain, then I must fix my mistakes. Even if they were not my mistakes, I had a duty I must fulfil. What better did I have to do in my life? Go back to the loneliness, stay in the city.
So I forced myself up and found a fresh change of gowns placed on an ensuite bathroom with a steaming bath. I wiped away the dried blood from my back until the bath was stained red. Zephina was proved right once again; nothing remained but a scar the size of a hair and a whole lot of aches. Then I braided my hair and went out of the door.
This side of the castle was different to the one we had broken into. It was newer, with freshly painted walls and a number of servants and ladys and lords rushing through the corridors. I tried to keep my head down and walked.
Somehow I had ended up in what seemed like the kings quaters. This time I wasn’t as surprised. If I had lived here my whole life, I would know my way round.
So I ventured in. This must have been where I had lived and breathed and eaten. It was so close, yet such a lifetime away. The area seemed deserted, apart from a number of glaring portraits of queens and kings over the centuries. I walked across, seeing the generations pass and the times change until I found me. It was me. She comprised of the same horrible shade of green eyes and the distinct short and curvy stature, except she had more authority than I could ever dream of and want.
She was definitely not me. I would make that clear to Elias. We were different. Memories make ones personality and my personality was made of my memories of uncle and the inn and my travels, not of a life served on a silver plate in a luxury estate. I was not Queen Ximena II of Faechman, I was Amara. I was different.
“Ximena,” said a man’s voice, though if I learnt anything of Zephina it was not to trust ones instinct. I twisted myself but was immediately stopped by a hand.
“Hmm. Amara. How are you?”
“Very well, thankyou.” I said in an equally polite manner, only to kick him and turn to face. It was the king. It was the king. My nephew. His eyes were the same as my own and he wore crimson robes and a crown upon his head. He looked angry and I was about to step back and run but he stopped me once again.
“Please. Aunt of mine, take this crown from my head and relieve me of my power.”
I shake my head and crossed my arms.
“I am not a queen.”
“Yes, yes you are. The courts will accept you. They will be fine with your slight immortality problem. I am sure of it. I didn’t mind too much when father told me, they won’t either. Or.. You.. you can tell them of a prophecy. That you are the prophesized queen. Make it up. They are a fickle crowd and will accept you.”
“I will not accept me.”
He looked conflicted, removing his outer cloak and folding it neatly. “Please.”
“Why do you beg?” I asked, genuinely curious.
Watching me carefully, he begun, “I can’t.. I can’t continue with this. I don’t like this.”
“You don’t like the power?” I said.
“You don’t like responsibilities?” I seemed to have struck a chord, as his whole body decreased from his kingly facade. He didn’t nod but it was enough. I knew.
“I can’t be queen. That, that is your problem.” I said. It was true, I didn’t want the responsibilities either.
In the matter of a second he changed to the face of a horrible raging beast.
“I could kill your friend,” the beast snarled, “You are still wanted for murder of a very good partner of mine, don’t think I don’t know what you have been up to. I could execute your friends and no-one would flip an eyelid.”
I nodded. “Yes. You could.” There was no point in denying the fact.