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Queen of Nothing

🇺🇸BasilliaLove
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Synopsis
Having her home taken and the remainder of her family held hostage Arabella, now the queen, has no choice but to bow down to the man who stole her home and killed her father. All seems hopeless when faced with the horrid realization that she will have to marry the foreign tyrant warming her throne but rare kindness from an enemy knight gives her hope that she might take back her kingdom. And possibly find a bit of happiness along the way.
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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1: Arabella

I had no choice. My kingdom had been conquered. My father killed and brother taken. They came swiftly in the night, the halls of the palace stained red with blood by morning and the crown city all but ash. I had no choice, I had to bow before him. Had I not, my family, my citizens, and my crown would have been lost. No, taken. Taken by the ruler of a country so pathetic their own gods turned their gaze away. Pathetic indeed, but hungry and driven mad by the taste of war.

So I knelt, my night dress stained with blood, very little my own, before my father's throne where the Althean tyrant sat. He smiled, twisted and proud as he looked down at me. "Decided to give in already? I had hoped for more of a fight from you, Princess."

I glared at him. "Piss on you and your house."

He laughed, his head falling back, long dark hair shifting into his beady eyes. "There's the fighting spirit I'd expect from the renowned princess of Morea."

"And what do you know of Morea other than that which you'll never have?" I said, my hallowed gaze never leaving his.

"Enough to conquer her, it seems."

"That's because you sand hoarders have no honor. Of corse you can take a palace when you sneak in at night and kill civilians. I might have tried the same in your country had I need of dirt and rock."

Once more he laughed, a twisted sound, "It was because we have only dirt and rock that I thought to come here, Princess. You've the biggest country on the continent yet you don't have the godliness to share your fortune."

I clinched my fist at my side. "We share all we have, just not with war mongers like yourself. By the Seven, we even trade with your puppet state, Amberyn, not our fault they don't share those goods with you."

He stood from my father's throne and stepped of the marble dias walking toward me. He reached out grabbing my chin with his blood stain fingers staring down at me with near madness burning in his eyes. "It matters not any longer. Congratulations Princess, you get the great honor of being my wife proper."

"I'd rather meet the Seven." I said spitting at him.

"And you might, after you're of some use. And be of use you will, or your younger brother might pay for your blunders."

"You're a madman!"

"We just don't understand one another, yet." He sighed. "But we've our lifetimes to correct this." He then waved over an, undoubtedly, handsome man wearing blackened full plate stained with blood. "Take the princess to a bath and then to her chambers. She needs her rest."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The knight said as he grabbed my arm pulling me to my feet. "Come, Your Highness." Given no time respond I stumbled over my feet while being pulled toward the enormous wooden doors that shielded the throne room from the rest of the palace. But I did not fall for a blackened silver arm reached out stabling me. "Mind your step."

I nodded, I had not expected any sort of kindness from anyone from Althea but it did not last as he pulled on my arm once more dragging me out of the room.

"Stay with her, Sir Ramneal. You've been promoted to the queen's personal guard." The sick voice of the tyrant called after us.

"Yes, Your Majesty." Sir Ramneal said as the doors swung shut behind us.

I looked around and nearly vomited as the sun reflected off the pools of blood staining the white marble that was once the pride of the palace. I had seen my fair share of blood, as a healer and the crown princess in a country that saw countless battles with Althea and Amberyn, but this was something entirely different. No one had been spared. My knees gave out without warning and I hit the floor hard. Sir Ramneal grumbled under his breath as he stopped walking and spun around to look down at me. "Weak at the sight of blood, pathetic."

I narrowed my eyes and bit my lip hard enough that blood stained my porcelain skin. "I don't mind blood, but it's the faces of my citizens who bleed it that saps my strength."

For nearly a second I could have sworn that Sir Ramneal softened but before I could be sure the bloodthirsty Althean monster returned. "It's a great honor to die for one's queen."

"Piss on your honor. I'd rather they return to their families."

"You're entirely too foul to be a princess." He groaned as he scooped me up into his arms like a child.

"What are yo..?"

"I haven't the time to wait for you to regain your damned composure." He said glaring at me once more. "Or did you not hear my king's orders?"

"Piss on your king and his orders."

"Foul indeed."