Page 5 of Red Queen

“Use it wisely, my Queen.” Meredith’s head lolls, and she takes her last breath.

Grief gnaws at me, and with effort, I push down its rising swell, focusing on the cool glass between my fingers. Father’s blood—a legacy of power and vengeance, now in my possession.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

As I stand, a fire ignites within me. I won’t let Meredith’s sacrifice be in vain. I won’t let Catarina take what’s rightfully mine.

The weight of the vial is more than its contents; it carries my father’s legacy and my people’s salvation. Meredith gave her life so I may live and right this wrong.

Nadia’s warm hand finds my shoulder, squeezing gently. Her eyes, usually so full of calm understanding, reflect the thunder raging within me.

“Eleanna,” she says softly, “we must keep moving.”

The cold grasp of winter’s frost awaits me beyond these walls, but it’s nothing compared to the chill of defeat that seeps into my bones.

I take a deep breath, slipping the vial into the folds of my dress. My heart clenches, not for the first time, at the loyalty of those who serve me. I am not as cold as I seem—a future queen must have her facade, but even iron can bend.

Once we leave Meredith’s body behind, I make another personal declaration. Her demise will be honored. Catarina will pay for this deceitfulness, and I will stop at nothing to see it done.

“We must hurry, my Queen,” Nadia says.

I nod sharply, the atmosphere thick with the scent of betrayal and spilled blood.

Nadia leads, and I follow. The narrow passageway constricts around us like a serpent’s embrace. We pause, and she produces clothing from a pack fastened over her shoulder.

“Put this on, my Queen. It will help disguise you from our enemies,” Nadia says.

She helps me shed my royal attire, the bloody, torn fabrics falling away to reveal the simpler garments beneath. I pull on the maidservant’s clothes with haste. The identity of Eleanna Cordon fading into submission as I adopt the guise of servitude.

“Quickly now,” Nadia whispers. “Stay strong, my Queen. We are almost out of the castle.”

Her brown eyes dart anxiously in the dim light as we press on, the stone walls cold.

The corridor twists and turns beneath the castle I’d planned to rule unquestioned. The walls press close, as if they, too, know the weight of this night’s failure.

We near the end of the passage, and the sounds of battle reach us even here. My heart races with anger. Anger at Catarina, at her betrayal, at the world that dares to oppose me.

A rogue vampire, one of Catarina’s loyalists, emerges from the passageway ahead, a sneer etched on his vile face. He grabs me roughly by the arm, mistaking me for a servant.

“Out of the way, wench,” he snarls, his grip bruising.

I bite back the venomous retort that rises to my lips, my every instinct screaming to unleash the fury within. But I must remain hidden, unnoticed. I am no longer a queen; I am prey hiding from the hunter.

“Please, sir, we mean no harm,” Nadia pleads, stepping forward.

“Shut up!” He shoves Nadia aside with a force that sends her stumbling into the wall.

The insult, the touch of his filthy hands, ignites a blaze within me. Yet, I contain it—a queen caged by necessity. I dig my nails into my palms, drawing blood—a reminder of the power I’m restraining.

He looks me over once more, disgust apparent in his gaze, then releases me with a shove. “Not worth the effort.”

He strides off, believing me inconsequential.

“We must flee,” I order through gritted teeth.

Each step away from the throne room is a step farther from my kingdom, from the legacy I swore to uphold. Nadia’s hand on my back is both a comfort and a reminder of what I’ve lost.

“Eleanna, my Queen, we will return for what is rightfully yours.”

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