Page 2 of Red Queen

His legacy is mine to bear, a mantle woven from the very essence of vampiric tradition.

To drink from humans, to savor the life force we covet—it is what we are, what we must always be.

My heart, if it could be called such, beats with a rhythm all its own. It’s a noiseless drum heralding the return of our dominion. I don’t need to voice my emotions; they’re etched into the very stone of this castle, into the marrow of my bones.

I sit tall on the ancient throne, my feet on the stone floor, the cold seeping through the thin fabric of my dress. The cold refocuses me and I let it meld in with my bones, cooling the blood and beat inside me.

“Let us speak of the old traditions I desire to bring back to our kingdom. It’s time we reinstate our rightful tradition—bloodletting of humans as they are mere cattle for the slaughter.” My voice reverberates off the walls, as certain as the death we’ve all transcended.

A murmur ripples through the assembly of vampires, as if their undead hearts are stirred by the prospect. The court appears divided. I sense it—a tumult of whispers and glances that betray their thoughts. Not all are swayed; some bear expressions of disgust, others of fear. They remember the rebellions, the uprisings of human vermin that dared to defy our supremacy.

To give in, revel in softer ways is to embrace the wrong side of chaos. I let the murmur ripple, taking note of dissenters, those who catch my eye. But I sit, gathering my regal air, resolute. I’m a rock among the stirrings of unrest in my court. Let them murmur, let them doubt. I am Eleanna Cordon, Queen of the Sagori, Mistress of Ravens and my will is law.

“Eleanna, you would drag us back to the dark ages!” One of them accuses, his eyes a blaze of defiance.

I take note of him, those around him. He’s alone in his opinions where he stands. Either those surrounding him side with me or hide their thoughts better. He’s no one of note, so I make him squirm as the silence stretches.

Then I lean forward.

“Is it not our nature to dominate? To feed as we were born to?” My retort’s sharp as a blade’s edge.

The dissenters among them may balk, but my determination is an unassailable fortress. The old ways shall return. It is the decree of my bloodline.

Suddenly, a female vampire storms into my courtroom, proud, exaggerated moves, head high, eyes sharp, the embodiment of ambition and menace—Catarina. Her presence is like a preternatural shadow, her aura a shroud of imminent tempests.

I resist tapping my fingers. I’m aware of how dramatic her appearance is. Her appeal.

Her black hair cascades like a waterfall of obsidian, and her ice-blue gaze could freeze hellfire itself. She wears her power as she does her formfitting gown of purple velvet, accentuating her statuesque frame. The crowd parts to let her through until she stands before me.

When I rise from my throne, the air between us crackles with the raw energy of centuries-old enmity. My hands, thoughclenched in anticipation, betray no hint of the turmoil that roils beneath my carefully constructed calm exterior.

“You are not welcome here, Catarina.”

Catarina’s smile is a slow, grim curl of her lips, as icy and unforgiving as the winter snowstorm besieging the castle walls. “Eleanna, you will not wear that crown nor any other this night. Step down from that throne, or watch as I lay waste to everything you hold dear, including your kingdom.”

Laughter bursts from me, a sound of defiance that echoes through the grand chamber. Her threats, meant to intimidate, only steel my resolve. “Over my eternal body.”

Catarina narrows her eyes, her malice undisguised. “Your arrogance blinds you, Eleanna. I’ve come prepared. I’ve built an army drawn from the vampire outcasts of your world, ready to end your reign tonight. Your throne will be mine, and your heart, I will personally see staked.”

Fury burns hot through me at her ominous declaration. “You think to intimidate me with a few measly vampire rebels? You mistake my determination for arrogance. You may have conjured soldiers from the bowels of the outer realms, but I am born of a lineage primordial and formidable. You aim to take my throne, to snuff out my life, but you will find that I am not so easily vanquished.”

The air around us grows heavy and my skin pricks and sparks with the imminent clash of wills and forces.

“You’ve always underestimated me, Eleanna,” Catarina says, her voice dripping with venom. “I spent years in the shadows, gathering strength, waiting for this moment to see you fall.”

“This is not a game. You seek to dethrone me, to murder me, but know this—I will defend my rule, my life, with all the ferocity and cunning that my family have honed for centuries. You’ve raised an army against me? So be it. But remember, I’m nostranger to warfare, to sacrifice. You won’t find an easy victory here.”

Catarina sneers, “You misunderstand. I don’t seek an easy victory. I crave the struggle, the sweet taste of your defeat. Your throne, your life—it will all be mine before the night is out. I’ll see you broken and your legacy in ruins.”

Tension in the hall rises, choking me. And the standoff is fed by the energy. One spark and the world might explode into that chaos I need to keep at bay.

Every vampire in here is frozen, ready for anything. Maybe ready to fight. The grandiose hall is transformed into a battleground where supremacy and survival hang in the balance.

It’s a silent, unmoving battleground, one poised on the precipice of something big, and the two of us stand at the eye of that battle.

One word and it will come tumbling down.

I meet her eye.

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