Queen Evana gritted her teeth to keep the scream from escaping her lips. She clenched the sweat soaked blanket beneath her and shut her eyes against the people crowding around her bed. Her husband smoothed her white blond hair behind her head and murmured soothing words. They did nothing to calm her. If she hadn't been in so much pain she would have been angry at him, but all she could focus on at the moment was the baby clawing to get out.

"Come on Your Majesty, you are so close," the midwife urged from her position at Queen Evana's feet.

She shot the older woman a glare but it was quickly erased by another squeezing pain. "One more push Your Majesty!" Evana sat up, preparing to throttle her but instead tightened her grip on the blanket until her nails ripped through, practically touching her swollen belly. She let out one last screech then collapsed back against the bed, sweat sliding down her brow. The midwife held the screaming baby against her ample chest, a smile breaking out across her face.

"You did it," King Ren murmured against her forehead.

Evana shut her eyes tightly, letting the tears slide down her face. "It's too late," she said, quiet enough so that no one heard her. The midwife took the baby away to do whatever she had to and King Ren rested his head against her shoulder, whispering empty promises into her ear. The baby had come a week too late, their kingdom was being invaded as they spoke and the sound of men screaming and battle raging on just outside the castle permeated her ears. The news was grim and it wouldn't be long before they entered the castle, she just hoped that she could see her baby before everything burned.

The door to her chambers opened again, allowing the sound of arguing and anxious voices to slide in. It was quickly shut and the midwife stepped forward, a bundle wrapped in her arms and a smile on her face. The flickering candles casted shadows around the room, giving the impression of demons reaching towards her baby.

"Bring it to me," Evana croaked, holding out her arms. She didn't even try to stop the tears that flowed from her eyes. There were times for strength and bravery, but this was not one of them.

The midwife placed the babe in Ren's arms and backed away respectfully. The king's grim face broke into a grin as he looked down at the child.

"Leave," Queen Evana demanded, her voice cracking midway from her screams. The small crowd gathered around them hesitated, her guards making no move to leave. It was no use though; they knew just as well as she did that death was waiting just outside the door and five guards would do nothing against an army.

"Must I ask again?" she asked, trying to reign in her temper. Everyone bowed tentatively and slowly left the room, glancing back as they went. Once the door had finally closed behind them, Evana let out the breath she had been holding. She held her arms out for the baby. Ren dropped the bundle carefully into her arms, sitting down next to her. She looked down to see dark blue eyes staring back at her. She smiled and much to her amazement, laughed. How odd that someone could be born in the midst of such a large amount of death.

"We have to name him fast," she whispered, smoothing back his light blond wisps of hair, still wet from the hurried bath the midwife had given him.

Ren nodded, his larger hand clasped around hers. "It's up to you."

"Aren," She said without thinking. Her father had been named that, a great man he had been. Now his grave was being burned and trodden on by an army of heathens. She brushed a thumb over his tiny cheek, pretending for a minute that there wasn't a war waging just outside her door, that she wasn't moments from death. They were silent for a minute, staring at the little boy. The sounds of shouting shocked them from their haze. Evana looked up sharply at the yells coming from behind the door. She turned her pale gaze to her husband as he stood from the bed, moving towards the door.

"Where are you going?" She tried to push the panic from her voice.

He turned around, his brown, almost black eyes crinkling at the corner. "I'll be back in only a second my dear; I'm just going to check on the guards." Evana was too focused on the baby in front of her to notice the red rimming her husband's eyes, or to hear the lie in his words.

She nodded, rubbing the baby's soft head. "Don't be too long." The only answer she received was the soft click of the door opening and closing. The second he was gone she placed the baby beside her gently and reached under her bed, her arms shaking with the effort. She felt around on the cold floor for the bottle she had stashed under her bed and pulled it up quickly. Inside there was a precious amount of purple liquid swirling around, just enough for the baby.

She uncapped the top and gently pried Aren's mouth open with the pad of her thumb. The baby cooed softly, but made no other sound. She supported his head back so that he was cradled against the pillows and titled the drink into his mouth. He swallowed it obediently, making a face at the tart liquid. The witch had given it to her a month ago with strict instructions to give it to her child. The old woman had claimed to feel something different inside of Evana's belly, something magical. The queen had been expecting the siege long before the army reached her gates, but she hadn't been sure when the baby would be born. Now that he was lying in her arms, she almost wished that he would die with her. She couldn't imagine what would happen to him, the elixir was the only safety she could provide. Evana could only pray to the gods long abandoned that the drink would work, that it would keep the thing growing in her child dormant for as long as possible.

The sound of a loud crash and screaming sent her grasping at her son and clutching him to her breast. She could hear pounding feet and swords being drawn. Evana shut her eyes tightly, preparing herself for the inevitable. The wooden door was flung open, her husband standing in the frame, light streaming in around him. A surge of relief went through her and she almost called out to him. Then she saw the blade sticking from his gut.

She kept herself from screaming as the blade slid out and he was pushed forward, blood splattering on the floor. Behind him stood the face that had lived in her nightmares for years, the face that was inches from taking away her new born baby and slaughtering her, slaughtering her kingdom. His face was thinner then she remembered and his eyes were as dark as ever. He had a small beard on his chin and his hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the same silver color as hers. His dagger dripped with her husband's blood as he stepped forward, closing the door behind him.

Queen Evana sat up as straight as she could, pressing her shaking hands into the baby. "Hello brother," she spoke coolly.

A crimson grin spread across his face. "It has been a long time, sister." He sheathed the simple dagger and stepped forward, his hands behind his back. Evana tensed as he drew nearer and carefully slid her hand beneath the baby to the knife resting in her lap. She would never be able to beat him if they were fighting hand to hand, but maybe she could surprise him.

"You've been busy," he raised an eyebrow at the sleeping baby.

Evana tried to cool her hate. It would cloud her thoughts and she would be dead in seconds. "As have you," she glanced towards the window.

He chuckled humorously and sat down on the bed next to her. Blood dripped from his gloves and landed on the sweat soaked blanket as he reached forward to stroke her forehead. Evana jerked back, shielding the baby. "Don't touch me," she hissed.

He clucked his tongue. "That's no way to treat family, Evana, didn't you miss me?" She pursed her lips and said nothing.

His dark eyes studied her carefully, not missing a thing. "May I see the baby?"

She snarled at him, "You know the answer to that."

His expression darkened. "And you know that wasn't a question."

She squeezed the cool metal of the knife, "What do you want?"

"I think you know Evana. Don't play dumb, it's unbecoming."

"Why," she hissed, clutching the baby closer. "What would ever motivate you to do something as stupid-"

The slap rang around the room. Evana jerked back and dropped the knife, reaching up to touch her stinging cheek. The baby had woken up and he blinked up at her with his dark eyes. Anger burned in her cheeks, but she pushed it back down. Time, she needed time.

"Don't you dare question me," he snarled. "You've been holed up in your safe little haven for 15 years, you know nothing. It's time for someone to finish what our mother started."

"She was an evil woman-"

"Shut up," he stood up from the bed and pounded on the door, "I grow tired of your distractions. Sherman!" He shouted through the door. He stepped back and watched as it banged open. Evana's heart pounded as she grabbed the knife and stood from the bed, balancing the baby on one arm. Three men filed in, swords raised and a bag clutched in their hand. Evana scooted back, hitting the wall.

Her brother signaled the men to walk forwards. She held the knife in front of her, steadying her shaking hand. "You coward," she growled, "You can't even kill me yourself."

He laughed. "Your words don't injure me, sister." One of the guards grabbed the hand holding her knife and jerked it back.

Her brother stalked over to her and snatched the child from her arms. Her heart twisted in revulsion. "No!" she screamed, struggling against the soldiers. "Please," she cried, "Please leave him!" She shouted, sagging against them.

He only smiled at her and looked down at the baby. He took the tip of his knife and stroked the whimpering child on the cheek. "He looks just like his mother," he grinned.

Evana took a deep breath. He couldn't have him. She didn't care what she had to do, but her brother would not take the baby. She forced her body to relax, waiting for the guards to loosen their grip. The knife had dropped from her hand and was resting at her bare feet. She eyed it carefully, inching her foot forwards. She felt their hands ease around her wrists ever so slightly. She stepped over the knife, wincing as it cut into her foot, and elbowed her captor in the ribs as hard as she could. He leaned forward, throwing her on the ground. She landed on her elbow and kicked the knife with her foot. She grabbed the blade and slid towards her brother.

Evana scrambled to her feet and threw the knife. The king winced away, but it wasn't aimed for him. The knife scraped the baby's collarbone, leaving a deep bloody gash. The second it touched him he started screaming. She fell roughly to her knees and the men yanked her backwards by her hair, exposing her throat.

Her brother sneered at her kneeling form. "You'd try to kill your own child?"

She tried to swallow in her position. "I'd rather he die then be anywhere near you."

He smiled ironically. "You flatter me. Lucky for you, you won't be alive long enough to see it happen." He nodded at the man holding her back and they held a knife to her throat. She shut her eyes tightly, waiting for death to draw his blade. Steps rang out nearer to her and suddenly leather gloves were gripping her chin.

Her brother's warm breath flooded her nose. He smelled like blood and betrayal. "You call me a coward," he whispered, "but who's going to win? The man that fights head on or the one that kills in the night?" He wiped the tears from her cheeks, leaving her husband's blood in their wake.

"Go to hell," she snarled.

He laughed and she heard him walk away. "I don't plan on getting there first, dearest sister." Her eyes flew open just in time to see him wave a hand at the guards. "Cut her neck then we'll show them to their people. The fair, honorable king and queen, killed in their own rooms," he sneered at the prone body of her husband.

 Before she could say anything else, the knife slid across her throat and blood gurgled out. They threw her forward, her vision blurring red. It bubbled up into her throat and her body tried desperately to expel the blood. She tried to drag herself towards her brother, but he just kicked her hand away. Evana's eyelids drifted shut, and the last thing she saw was the blood pooling beneath her forehead.

 

2: Chapter one- Alina

Princess Alina found the best way to kill a man was through the use of poison. It was much cleaner than a knife, much quieter than a sword, and harder to trace. It worked especially well if the victim was old and close to death. Regrettably, Lord Jargon was not close to death, but he was old. The fat man sat across from her, his face pale and shining with sweat and fingers fumbling with the cup she had placed in front of him.

 

Shadowfire was one of her favorites to use. There was no scent, and the pain that it caused was consuming, but it silenced its victims before they could scream. It was a rare poison, but having a box full of jewels made everything a thousand times easier.

Alina sent him a lovely smile as he took a large bite of his bread. She pulled her curled hair over one shoulder and stroked it placidly. Queen Enda had ordered her to accompany the old man around the castle over the past week. She had never been quite so thankful for someone to die in her life. His rough hands got old very quickly, and she had gotten all the secrets she could out of him. The bruises on her waist could attest to how hard she tried.

Despite her mother's fawning over him, he was not an important man and knew little of what she needed. Alina slipped a grape into her mouth and slid a slender hand across the table. Her half-brother called her hands skeletal, but she could wrap them around the smallest of items, something that had come in quite handy with the Lord across from her. She tapped her fingernails softly to get his attention.

"Lord Jargon, what a pleasure it has been to become acquainted with you," she purred.

He blinked his small eyes at her in confusion, a smile slowly drawing across his face. "I would say we are a little more than acquaintances," he said with a wink. The revulsion curdled in her stomach like milk, but she let her smile linger. Men were idiots. Few could see past a fake smile, especially with someone like her in front of them.

She giggled. "My Lord, how forward you are." She wrapped her long fingers around the crystal glass in front of her and watched anxiously as he followed her example. "A toast, to wonderful new friends," she beamed widely. Her smile felt more like that of a lion grinning at its prey.

Their glasses clinked together, and Alina relished the sound of crystal against crystal. Together they took a sip, but only one finished their drink. Alina watched as he dropped the glass and clutched his throat. She sipped her wine pleasantly as the Lord tried his hardest to scream. She left a quarter of the wine in her drink, and smiled broadly when he looked to her for help. She unwrapped her fingers, and let the drink fall on her lap. She hated the damned dress anyway. Alina opened her mouth, and screamed for the maids. If she hadn't been born a princess, maybe she would have been an actor.

Once Alina had changed out of her dress, she decided that it was time to visit John. She had not seen him in almost a week, much longer than normal. The cloak she pulled from the back of her closet was dappled in blood and dirt. She would not let anyone wash it for fear of someone stopping her visits. Identity was one of the most important things she had, but in this case it was quite a nuisance.

She slung the cloak over her shoulders and slid through the halls to the kitchen, her shoulders slumped and head bowed. The basket stowed under one of the rarely used cabinets was already filled with hard bread and a mug of old ale, but it would do. John was not a picky man. She snatched a small kitchen knife and stuffed that into the basket as well. Despite her reluctance to use a knife, it was always good to be prepared. The walk to the prison was a cold one, and she almost regretted her decision. Winter seemed hesitant to leave the normally mild lands of Ferasia, and it bothered Alina beyond belief. The cold sent goosebumps running up her arms along with the fear of her country turning into the frozen wasteland that Olayma had become. Their neighbor had been frozen up to their necks ever since last winter.

The chill had all but dissipated when she entered the humid jails. She almost pitied the drunken guards that were stuck beneath the castle. Almost. They staggered to their feet at the sight of her as if they would actually try to stop her. Before they could even open their mouths, she whipped out 5 gold coins and flung it at them. Similar to the castle's dogs, they turned away and chased after the coins, practically slobbering at the mouth. Money like that could afford three weeks of food for a family, or in the guard's case, three weeks of watered down ale.

She swept past them and drew the basket closer to her chest as she passed the moaning prisoners. The scent of shit and blood was an ever present aura around the prisons. Being down here for an hour was a struggle, much less years. She shivered at the thought and subconsciously picked up her pace.

John was locked at the beginning of the second tier of prisons. He had been there for a little over two years, and for all she knew was just as insane as the first day he entered. The thought of him sent a thrill down her spine. She did not love John by any means, or even like him very much, but she had once dreamed of being whisked away and married to him. Alina had been young and stupid then.

He kept his cell fairly clean, as clean as he could, and the sight of his long body lounging against the grime covered wall brought a smile to her face. "Hullo John," she quipped, swinging the basket as she walked. The young man arrived at the bars a second after he noticed her. He wrapped his hands around the rusted stilts and pressed his face against the holes. She reached through the bars and patted his scruffy cheek. Somehow he still managed to keep shaven. John turned his head and snapped his teeth at her fingers playfully. She yanked her hand away and glowered at him.

"Alina," he murmured. "Alina, what pretty hair you have." The taunt made a tremor form in her hands, but she clamped her teeth down angrily.

"John, what a dirty face you have." She tossed him a damp piece of cloth. He chuckled as he caught it, and scrubbed at his face.

"You're late," he observed. "You were supposed to come a day ago."

She rolled her eyes irritably. "I was rather preoccupied." Faster than her eyes could follow, he darted his hands out and grasped her around the waist. John yanked her towards him so that they were both pressed against the bars. She gritted her teeth and kicked the basket she had dropped behind her.

"Let go John, or I won't give you anything to drink." His face was pressed against the bars and his tongue darted out, trying to reach her. She hissed at him and yanked his hands apart. She broke free from his grasp and pretended to brush the dirt off of her cloak, trying to hide the shaking in her hands. The lust on his face frightened her more than anything else she had seen today.

She snatched the basket from the ground and tossed him a hard roll. He lunged for it and snatched it away before it could touch the ground. He fell to the floor and nibbled on it anxiously, watching every step Alina took.

"What have you been doing John?" Alina asked when she knew her voice would not shake.

He paused in his devouring of the bread to grin at her. "Waiting for you, my dear." She ignored the endearment and leaned against the wall.

"What about you? What have you been doing that left so many bruises on your stomach?" She pushed back the surprised gasp that threatened to escape and shrugged instead.

"I have been quite bored actually. It has been a terribly long time since anyone's thrown a party."

"Do not play innocent," he mumbled through a mouthful of bread, "I can smell the sins on you."

She snorted. "Oh, so you can feel bruises and smell sins now?"

He tossed the last piece of bread behind him and stretched out across the stone. "I can do many things. Much more than when you knew me. In fact," He rolled to his side and propped his handsome head up on his palm, "If you open the door and come in I can show you just what I've learned." The devil could not have been more convincing.

She placed her feet on the ground very carefully, and stopped at the edge of the door. He pulled himself along the ground and ran a block of ice up her calf. He grasped her ankle and smiled up at her, his face split in half by something that looked like a grin. She shivered at the life that seemed to be sucked out of her. "You sly beast," she muttered fondly. "How many woman have you lured in here to eat? How many have you ripped apart with teeth that belong to a monster and hands that murder?"

"Just you, my love, just you."

She sneered at him. "I ought to kill you."

"You say that every time dearest," his hand slid up to her calf and he got to her knees, "Yet here I am, alive and breathing."

"I will kill you and you will burn in hell." She squeezed her eyes shut and focused only on the ice cold hand running up and down her leg.

"We are one in the same my dear, only you are outside the cage, and I am in it." When he reached her thigh she stepped away. His touch left her exhausted and longing for death. Her eyes flickered open, only to find him smiling at her like a king staring at his queen. The truth in that made bile rise in Alina's throat. She could not stay any longer. She rolled the bottle to him, and nodded curtly.

"Next time," she promised the air, "I will kill you." His laugh followed her from the dungeon and out the doors. It echoed in her head and etched itself into her bones until she felt like tearing off her skin. Mainly because she knew it was a lie.