Goddess

“I have the power to control people’s thoughts and actions...What am I, if not a Goddess?”
In a world where all those in power have power the Princess must play a dangerous game with a dangerous man.
Who will win? What will the consequences be?

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3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three



 

“You look… different today, Majesty” Alexander said. I ignored the implication that I was aware of something he was not.

 

“Thank you Alexander,” I replied curtly, thinking about whether or not I could stop the old fool’s heart without anyone noticing.

 

I ascended the stairs to my throne quickly not stopping to acknowledge the crowd that had already gathered at the bottom. After a moment of silence Alexander came to stand by my side, presenting me with the silver crown of my birthright. Without a moment’s hesitation I placed it on my head. The reassuring weight reminding me of why I was here, of the future I was meant to provide for the citizens of my realm.  

 

The room was silent. As they stared at my dress, my make-up. They all came to understood the importance of the dress, of the decision I made to wear it. This dress symbolized death, the loss of innocence.

 

It was something I swore to only wear in times of great grief and sadness. No-one was eager to approach me in that moment. I was almost thankful; if I could just conserve my power I may be able to break the barrier in Max’s mind.

 

As though on cue, a young child aged seven, escaped his mother’s clutches. He ran towards the front of the stairs, ascending the first step before remembering the manners he was taught. He quickly dropped into a bow and started fidgeting, shifting his weight from side to side as though he expected pain to come at any moment. I could feel myself softening though rationally I knew at any moment the enemy could enter.

 

I sacrificed the safety of my throne, quickly stepping down the stairs until I reached the child. I dropped to his height offering him a small smile. I was trying to tell him I wouldn’t hurt him; as a child he would not receive any punishment from whatever he had come to ask of me.

 

“Excuse me miss?” The child asked. I waited, understanding the terror of having to speak in front of all of these people. Many of whom had seen me grow up struggling with the same self consciousness.

 

“Yes?” I asked when the child did not continue, my voice was far too soft for that of a future Queen. I could almost hear the lecture from my father ringing in my ears.

 

“My mum…. she’s sad” The child tried to explain, vaguely motioning to an older woman in the crowd who was crying, though whether in joy or sorrow I could not tell.

 

Without the child even noticing I delved into his mind, replaying his memories up until the very latest - that of his mother trying to explain the rules of court. The memory reminded me of the time when my own father was impatiently trying to teach me the same rules.

 

I brought forth from the child’s memory what he would ask from me. It was not something I could consider. Even for me his request was impossible. His mother wanted peace; land on which she could raise her child. The boy wanted his father, a man who had been conscripted many months before and killed in a violent battle to the south. Gently I nudged his thoughts, urging him to think the way of his mother; praying that the gentle stimulation would be enough to pry the child from his path.

 

“She wants a place for the two of us” The child responded, a glassy look in his eyes. A slightly robotic edge to his voice that I hoped no-one else would notice.

 

“Of course Aaron” I replied, breathing a sigh of relief.

 

Aaron, with a slightly bewildered look in his eyes lunged at me, wrapping his arms around my neck, squeezing me tightly. I knew that this was the child’s way of expressing thanks. After a moment Aaron stepped away, a small smile lingering on his features. Standing rather quickly I stepped back towards my throne, my eyes lingering over the crowd, wondering if Max was present, watching me, judging me and the actions I took.

 

I could feel the glare from Alexander on the back of my neck, the disdain and the disgust he had for the common people. It was one reason he became my father’s advisor; to influence the country in his favour.

 

He had worked in the shadows for years, slowly but surely turning my father away from the light and into the darkness. At least, that was what my father wrote in his diary before I was born. As soon as my parents realised their daughter’s power the man was removed.

 

It was not very long after that when the King died, and the Queen ‘disappeared’. The people were told the Queen was the responsible for the death and corruption of the King. Alexander was restored to a position of power by the people. At least, that was the story the general populace was told.

 

Alexander had been waiting for the opportunity to manipulate me since. However due to my power I always knew what he was thinking, where his plans led. I was just waiting for the chance to take him down.

 

Closing my eyes I relaxed into my throne. It brought me some form of stability. It was a constant presence in my life. A slow clapping disturbed the silence of my mind, my eyes snapped open, searching for a familiar face in the crowd. A young mother stepped forward, a smug look on her face. I snarled in an unladylike fashion my hands clenching on the arm rest. The woman was now immune to my power - at least until Max decided he’d had enough fun.

 

The crowd separated from the woman, throwing panicked looks between her and me. None of them understood why I wasn’t able to render her unconscious, or dead. Having proven his point to both myself and the people Max stepped out of the woman. His figure was shadowy for half a minute before he fully materialised, stretching his neck side to side as though the transition had somehow injured him.

 

Behind him the woman collapsed, her heart racing and stopping periodically until finally giving up. The average mortal was not meant to survive being taken over. But Max didn’t care who died as long as it got on my nerves.  

 

“Hello Mia,” Max said, with a bored tone.

 

“Max,” I replied, nodding at him but refusing to stand.

 

Alexander straightened significantly. I could feel the fear emanating off of him in waves. The crowd was staring at the man in front of them. A man who would so carelessly use their Princess’s first name. I could see the cogs turning in their minds wondering, was the Princess no longer all powerful?

 

“Remove them. Make them forget.” I stated to Alexander under my breath. He gleefully obliged, casting his memory spell over the people in the room before quickly ushering them out.

 

“What’s wrong Mia? Don’t want them to see your weakness?” Max asked.

 

After a moment I finally stood from my throne, watching as Max’s face became slack, his eyes drifting over the magnificence of the dress I had chosen. I briskly stepped down the stairs coming to a stop barely a metre away from him. My eyes flicked to his, the yellow irises reminding me that this man was my enemy.

 

“What do you want?” I hissed under my breath, balling my hands into fists so as to assure I would not be tempted to touch him.

 

Max smiled in response. I barely saw him move before he was standing right in front of me, forcing me to look up at him due to his slight height advantage. After a moment Max placed his hand on my arm, little electric shocks travelling up into my heart.

 

“I want to marry you.” He replied. Though I tried I could sense no sarcasm in his words.

 

“Impossible.” I seethed pulling away from him, taking a few steps away to try to distance myself.

 

I was one year off being eligible to wed. I still had one year of my freedom; of trying my hardest to change the damn law that stated I had to have a king to be able to rule. Until that time I had a year to convince the people that I was a strong and capable leader, worthy of the title ‘Queen’.

 

It was a difficult task, especially when Alexander had long ago chosen my future husband and was unwilling to change his mind. Max smiled cheekily, slowly sliding a plain brown cotton bag from his shoulder tossing it towards me.

 

Curiously I opened the bag. Letting out a terrified scream immediately dropping it.The bag bounced, the object inside tumbling out, revealing the head of what would have been my future husband.

 

“What?” I stated, the disgust plain in my tone.

 

“And here I thought you’d be happy. I knew you wouldn’t marry such a man. So I removed him. Don’t you want to thank me?” Max asked, a earnest tone in his voice as he cocked his head to the side.

 

A small laugh escaped my mouth, though it stopped soon after. I wondered if I was hysterical. I covered my mouth with my hands shocked by the sound that had escaped. Max looked at me strangely, processing my reaction to the death.  

 

“Keep dreaming,” I spat.

 

In reply Max laughed. It was a free kind of sound. In another time it was the sound that lit up my world. It used to bring a smile to my lips. But now it was a sound that angered me. Reminded me at every moment that Max was not the friend I once knew. He was not the man I once thought I loved. He was not the man my father wanted me to marry so many years ago. He had changed, and so had I.

 
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