The palace halls were cold and lonely at night, as if they had been abandoned for a thousand years.

The stone walls, overgrown with vines glowed a dim green underneath the full moon, and the faint sound of dripping water echoed through the long, twisting stairwells.

A figure, tall and lean, cloaked in all black, emerged from the Queen's chambers, her eyes glinting in the darkness.

Locks of curly gilt locks framed her small face, and though her features were sweet and demure, her eyebrows were set into a deep frown, and her lips were taut and stern.

Lillianna Reinmar was no fool.

To the ignorant, she might seem like a simple servant, slaving away for the Queen's favour, but Lillianna had a different motive.

The Reinmar family hailed from the Cantergarrian mountains, and the folk of Cantergarre never adhered to any form of religious faith, and they built small temples within their villages instead of parishes and cordesanes.

They devoted themselves to nature and practiced witchcraft, and for thousands of years they had existed this way, living peacefully without outside intervention.

    This peaceful way of living was ruined once the Arrinella Cordesane was established in the capital city, and the people in the northeastern provinces, particularly Hasteburn and Lansbury were soon very devout worshippers.

As time grew, the people only grew more fanatical, and then a sense of responsibility was born. The need to convert every person on the continent to their faith.

The Winterbournes in the north were reluctant, but they converted anyways. The southern cities of Sutherland and Rhyland were sparsely inhabited in the past, so the House of Hasteburn set their sights elsewhere.

            The Cantergarrians.

Any man or woman who refused to convert would be locked up in their houses, which would later be burnt down, simultaneously killing them, and those who managed to escape retreated further into the mountains, far away from human contact.

The Reinmars were lucky. Lillianna's ancestors were wealthy barons, and thus the Hasteburns were unable to harm them.

The House of Reinmar survived the massacre, but their neighbours did not. The purging of Cantergarrian folk continue to this day, and Lillianna has had enough.

The members of the House of Hasteburn have reduced significantly in recent times, and all that remains of that murderous household is the head of the family, Lord Rupert, the Marquis of Hasteburn, his daughter Melissa, and his brother, the Grand Priest of the Arrinella Cordesane, Oswald Hasteburn.

In terms of power, the Marquis of Hasteburn was on par with the great Earl of Rhyland.

Lillianna knew that the Winterbournes were not any better than the Hasteburns, and she had witnessed the Queen's bloodthirst firsthand. But at the very least, the Winterbournes ruled the south with fairness and tolerance, and public burnings and executions were unheard of.

Lillianna had a goal in mind when she first accepted to become the Queen's lady-in-waiting-- it is to completely annihilate the Hasteburns using the Queen's hand.

The Marquis had been a bit too late when he proposed that the King should take his daughter as a bride-- Edmund de Chauvelot was already betrothed to Anne Winterbourne. But taking concubines were nothing out of the ordinary, and so a concubine Melissa Hasteburn became.

       Now, all that Lillianna had to do was to ensure that Melissa could never threaten the Queen's position.

She had thought about feeding the concubine with a poison that leaves her infertile, cutting off the Hasteburn line for good, but that would undoubtedly implicate the Queen.

Lillianna had to be more careful, more tactful. For now, she will simply root out the traitors within the Queen's circle.

She picked up a torch that was hung on the wall, and gently pushed the door open. There was a faint scent of wood and jasmine lingering within the room, and Lillianna's eyes flickered towards the rows upon rows of magnificent gowns and dresses, the shiny sequins glittering in the dark.

            Lillianna was shocked to hear the Queen ordering her to destroy all these expensive dresses, but it quickly subsided when Queen Anne told her and Argenta to pack up the dresses and arrange for them to be sent to her ancestral home in Rhyland.

Earlier that week, she had gone out to the city and purchased twenty silk gowns, all very beautiful and costly, but obviously they were no match for the Queen's dresses.

Speaking of which, they were tightly tucked within wooden chests, safely on their way to Rhyland.

Rosamund was in charge of the Queen's wardrobes, and she would have noticed this drastic change if she were not actively pursuing for the King's favour, batting her lashes everytime he passed by.

Either that, or she was too busy writing letters to the Marquis of Hasteburn, detailing every single action that the Queen made, even when she slept.
   
Lillianna abhorred Rosamund's greed, but she hated the latter's association with the Marquis of Hasteburn even more.

A soft smile bloomed on Lillianna's rosebud mouth, and she promptly let go of the torch.

       Lillianna storms into my bed chamber late at night, her features completely calm and cool, despite having set a room on fire only moments prior.

         "It is done, My Lady Anne," she says. "When shall we proceed ?"

         "Don't be hasty," I told her. "Have you sent the servants away ?"

Lillianna nods fervently. "Yes. Paid them five gold coins each, and they're off on their way."

Immediately after the fire had spread, several servants who had been employed by Lillianna were to go and put out the fires, while simultaneously creating a massive havoc. This was to ensure that I do not accidentally burn the palace down and to create as much chaos as possible.

I was aware of Rosamund's affiliation with the Marquis, and I am willing to take any step, however drastic, to demonstrate to him that I am not afraid, that I dare to implicate and torture this little spy of his.

And as for Rosamund the mole, I have prepared quite a magnificent gift for her.

           Blood, thick and warm, dripped down the nape of Rosamund's fair neck. Her eyes were sunken and bloodshot, flickering around madly like a wild animal.

She brought her fingers close to her mouth, trying to count how many teeth she had left.

Lillianna had not been merciful at all when she smacked her face with that wooden bat.

             "Does it hurt, Lady Walrich ?" I ask her sweetly, and those dark blue eyes swiftly flashed with rage. "You should have thought about this before running off to seduce my husband. You abandoned your tasks, leaving the wardrobe unintended. And now it is completely destroyed, all because of your own negligence."

Rosamund's rage melted away, and fear gradually surfaced.

            "Your Majesty," she sputtered pathetically, "I beg your mercy. I swear that I will not do it again. I swear that I will be loyal to you until the end of my days. I beg you, Your Majesty."

I smirked, gently shaking my head.

            "There is no use in forgiving an ingrate like you. Even a dog knows how to repay its master, but you? You are already conspiring to bring me down. Tell me, Lady Walrich, how much does the Marquis pay you ? What is the price of your loyalty ?"

Rosamund broke free from Lillianna's hold, and she crawled over to me, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I was wrong, Your Majesty," she sobs, burying her face against my satin gown. "Have mercy on me, Your Majesty !"

          "I don't want your apology," I chuckle. "I asked you, what is the price of your loyalty?"

Rosamund slowly retreated away, her eyes wide with fear. "T-ten gold coins for every information I gather."

Lillianna lets out an ear-piercing laughter. "Only ten gold coins? How cheap! Even a common scullery maid would have asked for more than that!"

I raise my left hand slightly, prompting Lillianna to be quiet. Then, I turned towards Rosamund again.

             "So the price of your loyalty is ten gold coins. What about the price of your life?" I question.

Rosamund slowly lifted her head up, and the fear that was previously so prominent in those deep blue depths had only intensified, to the point that it seemed as if she had gone mad.

             "Your Majesty,  I beg your mercy! Please! I swear on my mother's name that I will forever be loyal!" she shrieked in a maniacal manner as she grovelled on the dirty floor.

    I smile sweetly, further feeding into her delirium. Then I stood up from the wooden chair and strutted over to the fear-stricken Rosamund on the floor, my sharp heels producing an eerie clack with each step that I took.

              "You are beautiful," I say to her, but it was neither a compliment nor an insult. "If you had obediently remained under my wing, I would undoubtedly find a good husband for you and ensure that you will have a good life. But you just had to betray me. Can you imagine how deeply you have wounded me ?"

             "I am sorry-" Rosamund mutters under her breath, but before she could even finish that sentence, I scraped my long, sharp red nails across her tender pink cheeks, drawing out exquisitely thick red blood, vibrant enough to match my nails.

She gasped in both shock and pain, and she hastily retreated away from me while cupping her wounds, glaring at me as if I were a monster.

        In a sense, perhaps I am a monster. From the very beginning too, it seems. The House of Winterbourne has exhausted all its strength and wealth to get me here, and even if I wanted to turn back, I never could.

This is who I am now. I am no longer that little girl hidden underneath the shadow of Lisbeth's glorious beauty, nor am I the obedient daughter that my mother beaten to near-death.

         I am Queen Anne, and the glittering gold throne is mine, and mine alone.

None shall take it away from me, and if anyone dares to attempt it, I shall grant them the most horrendous existence known to mankind.

My fingers are dripping with blood-- Rosamund's blood, and I know that the cuts I made were fairly deep, enough to disfigure her for life.

              "Argenta," I call out, and she hastily rushed towards me, a white rag in hand.

As Argenta wiped off the blood on my hand, I turn to Lillianna and say, "Send this traitor to serve that Hasteburn whore. Let us see how the Marquis will treat her, now that she is of no use to him. Afterall, he is her true master from the very beginning, not I. "

Lillianna obediently nodded, and mere seconds later, three maids burst in from outside and dragged the traitor away, her shrieks gradually disappearing as they took her far, far away.

              "That is enough, Argenta," I whisper. She had been excessively wiping the blood on my hand, to the point where it began to hurt.

              "Are you certain, My Lady?" she asks, brilliant silver eyes meeting mine. "The blood... It's not coming off.."