Queen Y Novels & Stories

Me:: hey queen, what's the problem, I am busy. Queen :: thank God you picked, babe am sorry okay, I don't know what came over me, you know how much I love you please it will never happen again ok, I promise Me:: Are you sure about that? Queen ;; yes I am, Me:: okay Queen:: Does it mean we are cool now babe? Me;;of course we are. Queen:: thank you baby, you know what? Me;; not until you tell me, Queen:: Okay I was hoping that you could direct me to your place, I really wanna come spend some time with you, you know, I will keep you busy, the house must be boring you right?

Lisa walked over and sat down, noting that one of the servants offered Mira a chair out of earshot but still in the shade. “Apologies for the dramatic entrance.” The High Queen said quietly once the servants had withdrawn. “I have to put on a good show for the common people.” The Queen had a heart shaped face, with dark eyes that seemed to sparkle and apart from her dress and crown everything else about her appeared to understated, except for the massive sparkling ruby ring she wore on her wedding finger. She must have been in her 40s but she looked young, she looked still youthful like middle age was only just catching up with her.

“And you shall wait some more. After the Blood Moon, she will be all yours.” Jyris smiled, then placed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, promising to return before he took his leave. Dogori said nothing. The doors swung open and the presence of the Queen was announced. Her bloodshot silver eyes were her lost defining features, along with her glowing silver hair. She looked like she had been crying but when her gaze laid upon her daughter, she didn't seem pleased. “Is this your trade?” She asked the White King scornfully. “Not in front of our daughter.” The White King said tightly, before he smiled. “Are you not happy to see her?”

Only one Queen. And she was mine. She was all mine.

But his gaze lingered only for a fraction before returning to my face. “You look…” he started, then paused as if the next words were fighting through his throat. “Different.” Different. I tried not to cringe. “Different good?” I asked before I could stop myself. He swallowed once. “Yes. Good.” My heartbeat tripped. Edna snorted loudly and I stomped on her foot. She yelped. Liam exhaled through a tiny smile before turning to nod slightly in greeting to Edna. The Queen arrived shortly after, gliding through the hall like a moonlit blade; all silver gown and rigid grace. Her eyes swept over the nobles, then paused on me.

"But Daddy's still bigger‚ right?" "Yes baby." Then the Queen stepped out. Queen Anna was smaller than I expected. Five foot five maybe‚ with honey-blonde hair pulled into a low chignon and a cream-colored coat that probably cost more than every piece of clothing I had ever owned combined. She was beautiful in that ageless‚ immaculate way that royal women always are. But her eyes were different from her husband's. Dark brown. Warm. Sharp with intelligence rather than coldness. The front doors opened. Davis pulled them wide and the morning air swept into the foyer.

she replies. The Queen watches her in the mirror, her expression thoughtful but proud. “You will be ready when the time comes,” she says calmly. Outside, the footsteps return. Closer this time. Heavier. Not hurried in joy, but driven by urgency. A murmur rises in the corridor. Low voices. Sharp whispers. Still, inside the chamber, no one pays attention. “Bring the jewels,” the Queen orders. A servant rushes forward with a small carved box, placing it carefully on the nearby table. The lid opens to reveal rows of glittering pieces, gold and gemstones catching the morning light.

I am the Queen. And Queens do what is necessary.

Behind them, lesser gods and nymphs stood in respectful silence, their eyes fixed on the king. Zeus’s gaze fell upon them the moment they entered, and for a long moment, there was only silence in the great hall. His eyes moved from Hera – travel-stained and unadorned – to Artemis in her simple wool dress, to Apollo with his well-loved lyre, to Hermes with his mortal gifts still in hand, and finally to Eirene, who stood tall beside her mother despite the weight of his gaze. "Where have you been?" his voice boomed through the hall, shaking the very air around them.

Against all odds. But holding is not the same as winning. And eventually, they could not hold anymore. I turned the page. And found a portrait. Just a sketch, really. Pen and ink. Faded with age. A woman. She was not young in the portrait, but she was not old either. She was somewhere in between, in that particular place where a person stops looking like what they were and starts looking like what they are. Her hair was loose. Her expression was not afraid. Mira. Last Queen of the Witch Covens. Keeper of the High Flame. Killed in the forty-third year of the Crimson War by Aldric the Elder, great-great-grandfather of the current Alpha King.