Royal Malice

Regina

 “A woman was never meant to rule. Be grateful I’m here to take over. It’s time you finally understand that.”

Charles’s words echoed in my head as if his shadow still whispered them in my ears in a mocking tone. 

My Uncle, the Grand Duke’s murderer.

Charles had already set foot into the Grand Duke’s residence along with his knights. Claiming a throne that was never meant to be his. 

Be grateful after everything he has done? The fury inside me could consume the whole world and still remain unquenched.

Just a man full of audacity, not merits, who could never have been given the throne as long as the Grand Duke was alive. Because I was the only heir. It was meant to be mine. 

But they underestimated me, the legitimate heir of the Grand Duchy, just because I was a woman.

I gripped the sword in my hand. 

My Uncle’s last present to me. And today I will use it to send him a gift.

I tilted my head up for a brief moment and looked at the storm raging tonight as if heaven itself was sharing my grief, crying in agony and fury of thunder roaring in wrath.

The sky wept for him, just as I had. 

They, too, wanted justice. And as the manor drowned in darkness, I knew - tonight, even the angels were on my side.

With each step I took towards the Grand Duke’s Chambers where now Charles is, the wind howled through the halls of the Grand Duke’s manor, rattling the windows and snuffing out every flickering light.

It was as if nature itself had risen in my favor, draping the world in darkness to aid my vengeance.

The manor was nearly empty. Most of the knights were stationed outside, while only twelve were inside, as the rest were guarding the main entrances. Because they wanted to make sure I couldn’t leave, or so no one could come to my aid till tomorrow morning, when Charles would be finally given the title.

I approached them silently, ready to strike and kill those who had set foot into the palace of a man who was not even buried yet. 

I could hear the faint rustling of armor as the twelve knights shifted restlessly in the dimly lit chamber. They were uneasy - this palace was unfamiliar, and the darkness sure didn’t help.

I, however, knew every inch of this place. This was my domain.

The first knight barely had time to register the whisper of a blade before it slid across his throat in a practiced movement. I caught his body before it could slump to the ground, lowering it gently.

One down.

The others, unaware, continued scanning the dark, their torches offering little aid. Flickering light distorted their vision, casting deceptive shadows. 

A second knight fell, his mouth opening in a silent gasp as her dagger pierced through his neck. 

A knight heard the gasps from their fellow knights and reached for the lamps, but that was the mistake. 

I could hear my uncle’s voice in my head, “Fight darkness with darkness. Focus on the sound, focus on the whisper of air, don’t lose your calm, else you will die, no matter how skilled you are.” 

Then a third. A fourth. Panic set in when their fellow knights did not answer after they heard the sound of metal clacking.

The remaining knights huddled closer together, their discipline fracturing. Someone fumbled with their lantern, the flame nearly dying before flaring back to life.

“There!” one of them hissed as the flame captured my moving figure for a moment.

The moment they turned toward the voice, I struck again. A blade drove into the back of one knight’s knee, severing tendons. He collapsed, a strangled grunt barely leaving his lips before I drove my sword under his chin. The knights’ breaths were coming faster now. 

Fear. It dulled their reflexes. 

All the knights were unfamiliar with this residence. 

Again, his voice whispered in my head, “When you have your companions fighting alongside, form a circle, and attack with no fear. You all will have each other’s back.”

Then a knight lashed out wildly, blade slicing empty air, his mind unraveling in the blindness. However, I was already behind him, steel sinking through his heart.

Another torch fell to the ground.

Only three remained. All faced the dark hallway, ready to attack first, but they were clumsy, weighed down by their own terror.  They tried to yell for help, but the thunder drowned it all out. No sound escaped from the hallway.

And my size was my advantage. All their attacks were meant to be from an enemy of their size. Because who would ever think it was a woman attacking them? And before they could realize, my blade found soft flesh.

One fell. Then another.

The last knight stood frozen, his sword trembling in his grasp. He turned wildly, his breath ragged, trying to run away to alert more knights. But then something sharp caressed his throat.

He never got the chance to scream.

Silence reclaimed the palace. The bodies lay still, their blood soaking into the splendid red royal rugs, turning a shade darker. The whole place reeked of the filthy metallic smell of blood.

Just when I was about to take a step forward, I heard a creak.

The door opened, and Charles stepped out, a crystal goblet of wine in his hand, his robe lazily draped over his form. His face twisted in a frown. His arrogance remained, even in the dead of night. It seemed like he came out to complain about something. But then, he saw me. And I let him see my true self. 

He saw the corpses lining the hall behind me as the light from his room illuminated the hallway.

Saw the crimson stains on my hands, my dress, my face, and my sword.

Saw the cold, hollow emptiness in my eyes.

The goblet slipped from his fingers, shattering on the marble floor.

“R-Regina…” His voice was no longer drenched in arrogance. It trembled.

I stepped forward into the light, letting him see me fully - see the woman he had tried to break now standing before him.

Charles stumbled back, his breath ragged. Then, panic overtook him, and he turned, attempting to flee.

A mistake.

A sharp cry tore from his lips as my blade sliced across his side. He collapsed, gripping the wound, crimson seeping between his fingers.

His head snapped up, his fear now masked by desperate rage. “You-You dare attack me?” He gritted his teeth, forcing himself up. “I am the Grand Duke! The ruler of this land! If you kill me, you will be a traitor, a murderer-”

I did not speak, only took a step forward. He immediately took a step back.

A smile came on my face, this man. This was the Charles I knew. A man who only knew how to bark. The man who could not pick up a sword and fight me. 

Blood dripped from my sword and soaked the marble floor, the scent of iron thick in the air. Charles trembled before me, his once-arrogant smirk now long gone, replaced by desperation.

"Pathetic," my voice was cold.  "To think a coward like you dreamed of becoming the Grand Duke. How amusing."

I took a slow step forward, my voice cutting deeper than my blade. 

"Do you know how much you disgust me? And yet, for my family, I was willing to accept you. To marry you. To endure you?"

Charles swallowed hard, his back hitting the cold stone wall as I advanced. It was honestly a shame since his father was one of the best swordmasters in this empire, yet Charles never bothered to learn from him. 

“I ignored everything you did because I did not care, but it seemed you thought I couldn’t do anything.”

His jaw clenched, but he said nothing. He was too stunned, too cornered.

“You could never see me as your equal, which was your mistake. And I wanted us to be, which was my mistake. Because I am clearly way above you, in every possible way.”

“Every one of your mistresses sought permission from me first before they warmed your bed because they feared offending me, the daughter of the Grand Duke. And I allowed them so you would keep your paws off me."

I could see embarrassment filling his eyes. He gritted his teeth in anger, fists clenched.

His lips curled into a snarl, trying to regain his composure. "You think I need help from a wo-"

"I pity you." I cut him off, her voice dripping with contempt. "You’ve always been a pawn in someone else’s game. A disposable piece. Did you really believe you would hold the title of Duke for long? You were nothing more than a stepping stone."

Charles's eyes widened slightly. Doubt flickered across his face. Seeing his expression, anyone could tell he never doubted his allies, but he deserved it. 

"You were never even meant to last. And honestly, how long did you think people would have tolerated an imbecile like you? You could not even lead a herd of donkeys.” I smiled coldly as I leaned forward, "You would end up being led by them.”

His face twisted with rage. With a roar, he lunged at me with a knife lying on the bed beside him, his last attempt at salvaging control.

Fool.

I moved before he could even register it. My blade sliced through the air, striking his arm so swiftly that the knife clattered to the floor before he could even cry out.

Pain shot through him, and he stumbled back, clutching his wounded arm. He bared his teeth, his breath ragged as he glared at me. "You think - You think killing me will make you win?" He puffed out his chest, desperate to regain even a sliver of dominance. 

"You can never win. You’re just a weak wo-"

I struck again.

This time, my blade met his chest, silencing him with a sharp, sickening slice. Blood spilled down his robe as he gasped, his knees buckling beneath him.

And then came the pleading.

"R-Regina," he stammered, his arrogance now completely shattered. "Y-You’re mad because of what I did. I was wrong, I see it now! And I’ll forget this happened. I-I’ll forgive you! I’ll blame someone else for this.”

It was understandable that he said it. Only an imbecile like him would trust such words. I needed to patiently explain what was happening to this fool.

"Charles, I am going to take that throne. And I will kill everyone who was behind the Grand Duke’s murder….starting with your family.”

Charles’s eyes widened in fear, hearing my dark tone. He swallowed, shifting tactics, his voice trembling now. “L-Look, I made a mistake, alright? We can fix this, Regina. I can make you the Duchess. You’ll have power, wealth, and anything you desire! Just put down the sword, and-.”

“Make me the Duchess? A chuckle escaped my throat. Just how much had he filled his head with nonsense?

Desperation seeped into his voice. “P-Please…don’t. We can still rule together. I-”

I tilted my head, my expression unreadable. And then, in the coldest whisper, I spoke:

 "You are not worthy to rule beside me."

With that, I raised my sword for a final swing. 

And Charles’s head fell to the floor.