Young Writers Society

It was a lovely wedding dress. White, covered in lace, draping elegantly in all the right places. And the secret pocket in the sleeve was virtually invisible. It would hide the little vial of poison until my new husband’s wine glass was positioned just below my bell-shaped (funnel-shaped) sleeve. At that point, I would simply let the vial open, and the white powder would slide down the wide part of the funnel, into his wine.
My father explained it to me over and over again, assuring me that it was all I would have to do. “You’ll only have to itch your wrist!” He bustled around his chamber as he spoke, excitedly readjusting the crown on his head. The circlet of gold had never seemed to fit right since his hair started to thin. “Just a simple scratch. A mere fidget! And that pawn will be dead within the year.”
“I still fail to see how that old witch could make a poison that would take so long to affect him,” I muttered, curled up on my chair and staring vacantly at the dress. It hung on a hook on the other side of the chamber looking innocent. Pure. The way I was supposed to look, except that an ‘innocent’, ‘pure’ bride-to-be wouldn’t sit in her father’s private chambers plotting ways to kill her fiancé.
“She said that it would give him some kind of incurable, lethal disease,” the king said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He rummaged around in one of his chests, discarding books into a stack on the carpeted floor. “It will begin on the very first night, but the symptoms won’t be severe until long afterward. No one will suspect that it was us, least of all that gold-hoarding aunt of his.”
Ah, yes. The gold. It seemed it was the only thing my father thought of anymore. Everything he did, every carefully planned move, was meant to lead to that pile of gold in the Torris family’s coffers. The introduction to Rede Torris, the betrothal that would join our long-feuding families, and the murders that would supposedly save our poverty-stricken kingdom. All of it was for the gold.
“Speaking of her-” I began.
“Who?” My father had become distracted, flipping through one of those books of his, a fond smile pulling back the corner of his mouth.
“His aunt,” I said clearly, firmly enough that he looked up from the book. “The Lady Toriss. Will she get the same treatment?”
“Heavens no,” my father sniffed, shutting the book with a soft thud. “You think she’d be careless enough to let someone near her food and drink? We’ve already received a message claiming that her doctors have put her on a strict new meal regimen. To be sure that she doesn’t violate it, she’ll be bringing her own cooks to the wedding.” He made a face. “The witch said that she has a different plan for that one’s demise.”
“What exactly is it that ails the Lady Toriss, Father?” I asked, casting a disinterested glance at the glittering ring on my finger.
“No one knows,” he said cheerily, turning his attention to another chest of books. “But I hope that it’s something truly awful. She’d keep water from the fish if she could find a way to hold back the river. There isn’t a generous bone in her body.”
I snorted softly. When the gold was in my father’s hands, would it be any different? Would the Toriss’ gold last any longer than ours had? Or would it all be squandered, given away to every desperate place of learning that managed to tweak my father’s ear? I glared at the stacks of books that surrounded me. If that was what came from being educated, I would much rather be stone-brained and dull.
“And what happens after?” I asked impatiently, flicking a tendril of brown hair out of my eyes. “When I’m a widow and the monarchy has money again? Will I stay a widow for the rest of my days? Or will you find another man with coins in his pockets, and we’ll do the same thing all over again?”
“You will marry, Feldia,” my father said softly. “Unless we find that he’s already given you an heir before his death. Then there won’t be a need, if you don’t want to. But I promise you that if you do marry again, there will be no scheming, and no murder. Will we use his money? Of course. But will we kill him for it? No.” He hesitated, flipping through the pages of a thick, leather-bound tome as he searched for the right words. “The situation we have with the Toriss family is complicated.”
“What’s so complicated about it? We want their money, they want our power, and all of us hate each other.” I paused. Well, most of us hated each other. For all I knew, Rede truly hated me the way I was supposed to hate him, and yet…
Father ignored me, pulling a book out of the chest with a flourish. “Ah! Here it is!” He gave me the book, a rare, soft attentiveness sparkling in his eyes. “Your grandmother’s journal. My mother passed it down to your mother the night before we were married, as I now pass it down to you. From a queen, to a queen, to you. With a brief stay in my hands, of course, but that’s neither here nor there. Read it in the hope that some of their wisdom and grace may rub off on your fingers with each page you turn.”
“Thank you, Father.”
He nodded pleasantly as he opened the door, then went out into the hall babbling on about something innocent long after he was out of my hearing. I sighed, casting another look at the dress, then turned all the pages in the journal at once, fluttering them carelessly with a bleak expression on my face.
~
Cheers flooded the chapel, ringing louder than the wedding bells as my lips left Feldia’s. She was beautiful. Truly a blushing bride, and to any of the guests sitting in rows, applauding our union, she must have looked happy. Ecstatic, even.
Of course, I knew different. I was close enough to see the sadness in her eyes when she looked at me. The slight furrow of her brow, and the way she turned to the crowd to avoid meeting my gaze.
It seemed strange to call her my wife, all things considered. All my life, I’d listened to my aunt speak of the Delroses with nothing but scorn. Aunt Venri was a lady in public, but talk of the Delroses always managed to strip the pretty lies from her mouth when we were alone. Growing up, I’d never imagined that I would stand at the altar alongside the woman my aunt had cursed so many times. Even after our formal introduction, I’d never been able to imagine it. And even after the betrothal was arranged, I had never imagined that I would truly care about the young woman I was to marry.
Yet here we stood at the altar. Married, smiling for the crowd, and silently planning to kill each other. I felt a pang in my chest: the same dreadful emptiness that had been growing over the past months. The pointless wishing that things could be different, and that we could simply marry each other and be happy, without all the rest.
But if what the witch had told Aunt Venri was true, that could never be. If that hag – that rag-covered demon – was telling the truth, then Feldia and I would never be truly husband and wife. Not for long, anyway.
I crowded out those thoughts with the goal that my aunt had drilled into my head every day from the time she learned of the king’s plot to obtain our money. Now that I had married the princess, I would be king the moment her father expired. The kingdom would be in the hands of the Toriss family.
And all I would have to do was switch our wineglasses.
Perhaps it doesn’t have to be this way, I thought, heart pounding as I took Feldia’s hand and guided her down the shallow steps, through the crowd, into the grand hall where our wedding feast would be served. There’s still a chance that the witch is lying, and there is no plot. I could see the hag now, at the fringe of things, hiding in a doorway with that toothy, mocking grin of hers. Servant of the king. Informant of my aunt. Nightmare of babes and soldiers alike.
Rows of ancient wooden tables – tables that had witnessed many royal weddings before this one, I was sure – filled the hall, every setting laid out neatly. On our way to the long table at the head of the hall, though, I noticed that the dishes were chipped, and some seemed to come from a different set. They were just like the tapestries, and the wall hangings, and all the other ancient, worn things in the palace that mostly matched, except for the few that had been sold off in the hopes that no one would notice. Aunt Venri had more than a few of these missing items gathering dust in our own estate; spite was perhaps the only thing that could prompt her to make a luxurious purchase.
Certainly, it had prompted her to buy the witch’s services after she heard what the king and his serpent of a daughter were planning.
The ‘serpent’ finally dared to glance at me as I pulled her chair back, smiling a sad little smile that made the empty feeling in my chest expand to fill me from head to toe. There’s still a chance, I told myself firmly. You’ll know soon enough. All you need to do is watch her wrists, the way the witch told you to. If she itches them, or rubs at them. That’s when you’ll know.
I took my seat beside her, knowing that a cold, distant look was in my eyes. My aunt had told me again and again that I needed to be warmer to her. It didn’t matter that I secretly despised her, or that she probably knew it. Even the slightest doubt could cause her to falter.
A true statement if ever there was one, at least based on all the faltering that I had been doing as of late.
Things had progressed so much further than I’d expected them to the night I’d agreed to Aunt Venri’s plan. I would’ve given Feldia the gold, my life, my dying breath, if it meant that things could be different. But they couldn’t. There was only one thing I could do for her, and that was to hide the painful truth in my eyes. If she considered me hard, and unfeeling, so be it. Better for her to think of me that way than in a way that would cause her more pain.
Her father was at her right side, beaming out at the hall with what could only be described as a father’s pride. Aunt Venri was on my left, her cook standing just behind her nervously, with a number of jittery servants running frantically in an attempt to follow their instructions. How they were to share kitchen space with the king’s servants without letting any of them near my aunt’s food, I hadn’t a clue, but they must have been managing it somehow.
The nobility of the kingdom filled the hall, putting on a grand show of gaiety and splendor. Surely it was a show, for how could they not understand how important this wedding was? More were in attendance than we’d had expected, though there were still empty seats dotting the tables. These lords and ladies followed the money, I supposed as I picked at my food, and now that I had joined the royal family, that meant that the gold had returned to the monarchy. Would they wait until the festivities ended to ask for supplements to their finances, or would they slip the requests in with their rushed congratulations?
Feldia and I bent our heads toward each other like a good couple was supposed to, and she whispered the names and titles of guests into my ear. Truthfully I must have known more of them than she did, since many hadn’t hesitated to ask someone outside of the royal lineage for money, but I let her go on with the flurry of names and stations, always keeping an eye on her wrists. Dukes and duchesses, foreign ambassadors, important family friends, and old supporters of the crown. Their names filled my head, and I could see what she was trying to do.
It almost worked. Somewhere between Lady Ellerie Annerdon and Lord Ferrensty Quoll and the count of Port Gorrel’s niece, Tewwe, I got so turned around that I nearly missed the movement of her hands. She’d been pointing people out here and there throughout the night, and this was no more intrusive than those gestures had been. She just reached across me to point out the pox-ridden redhead on one side of the hall, and absentmindedly scratched at her wrist, adjusting the fit of the sleeve.
My blood ran cold. The forced laughter and babble of the wedding-goers faded to a dull rumble, as did the story that Feldia was telling about the time when Tewwe had come to stay the week at the palace. She kept pointing as she spoke, and I could see it. The white grains of powder that sifted down through the lace in her sleeve and dropped into my wineglass, soft as snowfall.
I forced my face to remain untroubled. I even managed to smile at the conclusion to her little tale, though I could hear that her heart had gone out of the story (if it had ever been there in the first place). Her worried eyes were on my face, and I could see her thoughts as clearly as if she’d written them on the yellowed silk tablecloth. Did you see? Have I been found out? Do you know what I’ve just done?
“Good evening, my dear!” purred Aunt Velia. She’d come around to the other side of Feldia, who jumped a mile high. I could see the new thought even more clearly. Did she see me? For a cold-blooded murderess, my new wife certainly wasn’t very good at hiding her emotions.
“Lady Toriss,” Feldia dipped her head respectfully.
“I simply had to come over,” my aunt gushed, false happiness on every inch of her sallow, bony face. “So hard to carry on a conversation from the other end of the table.”
“Yes, I suppose.” Feldia kept her eyes warily on my aunt, which made it simple to reach across and silently switch our glasses around, a pounding in my ears.
“To the newlyweds!” a bubbly guest called, bravely raising their glass high. Everyone repeated the toast, and we lifted our glasses as well, nodding in acceptance with plastered-on smiles. I sipped wine from what had formerly been Feldia’s cup, and she watched me do it. As far as she knew, she watched me drinking in death.
After a moment’s delay, she sipped her own wine, eyes sliding away from mine. I watched her swallow, heart sinking. On an impulse, I leaned over and kissed her on the temple. She jumped. Nearly spilled. Guilt flashed in her eyes.
But she forced a smile, gritting her teeth, and we played the happy couple a while longer. I did not kiss her lips, and I think that she was relieved. After all, she didn’t want to die along with me, all because of a poisoned kiss.
The witch watched on from the farthest corner of the room, empty chairs and furtive glances surrounding her. She raised her glass as well, smirking quietly at our table, and I felt rather than saw Feldia respond with a nod. But I knew who the look was truly directed at. My face burned, and I vowed that one of my first acts as king would be to banish the hag. Someone who made poisons and knew ugly secrets was too dangerous to keep about for long.
~
I admired the moon fondly as I walked through the palace garden, stooped as always. My back hurt from crouching over all day, picking herbs, stirring pots. But I think that the arch of my back only added to the image of what a proper witch looks like, as I’m sure anyone else would agree. The hunch, along with the greasy hair and the squinting eyes, served well to make me seem older and more bent than I was. Which was a good thing, as anyone who saw me with clean hair, a genuine smile, and perhaps a new dress may have been able to guess the truth about where I’d come from. About who I was.
And that would never do. Yes, it was certainly better to manage with an ache in my back than it would be to suffer the constant pain in my side: my family.
The clothes made the woman, as did the posture, and I thought that I probably seemed even more gruesome than usual under the ominous moonlight.
And so much the better, I thought with a smile. It is good if I appear outlandish and unnatural, so hideous that it seems best to turn your eyes away from the sight.
My smile grew when I spotted the stiff, slender figure hiding in the shadow of a stone equestrian. The expression took on a crooked quality, and I let my teeth escape their prison, dangling out over my lower lip to peek at the Lady Toriss.
For after all, dear sister… It wouldn’t do to have you recognize me now, after all that’s happened.
“Ah, Milady,” I crooned aloud, fixing my own voice into the tremulous, squeaky way the hag spoke. “All’s well, I trust… Or not, ‘cause otherwise you wouldn’t’ve come a calling, daring t’ meet here in the king’s own gardens…” I sniffled with gusto, peering about at the flowers. “Though I s’pose it is a good place to be. Better in daytime, what with the sun bein’ out. I do think it could use s’more poison flowers. The poison flowers’re always the prettiest, don’t ya’ think?”
I savored the look of distaste that crossed my sister’s face, and allowed myself a little chuckle. After all, the more deluded my appearance seemed, the better.
“All is not well,” she bit off the syllables at the ends in that way I’d always hated growing up. Sharp. Condescending. The kind of thing that always made me want to draw my words out longer and longer, just to be contrary.
“What you talkin’ ‘bout?” I drawled now, rubbing my palms together within the folds of my frumpy dress. “The poison’s workin’ right on shed—sked-- on time.”
“Then make it work faster,” the lady hissed. “It’s been months since the wedding, and the princess is only just beginning to come down with something. Are these headaches she’s complained of even related to the poison?”
“Once th’ poison leaves me hands, I take no ‘sponsibility for how it do or don’t work,” I reminded her, crossing my arms. “I don’ keep tabs on the victims. Wouldn’ it strike ya’ as a bit shady if I went around asking the princess all regular like if she was feeling ill?”
“She comes to you for relief medicines, doesn’t she?” my sister snapped. “Slip her more poison that way. Speed up the process.”
“I don’ administer poisons myself!” I objected, then cursed myself mentally. Administered was a big word for the palace witch. She should have stumbled over it more. Were there other words I’d forgotten to fumble with?
“Well perhaps you should start to,” Lady Toriss said in a low voice. There was a threat there, unmistakable. As dark and serious as the threat that had been issued on a rainy day decades earlier, when I was ordered out of my own home. A noblewoman could use poisons, but she could not make them herself. It wasn’t proper. At least that was the official reason.
Unofficially, in the months after our father passed away gently in his sleep from a sickness that had ailed him for many years, my dear sister (Co-conspirator. Mastermind. Murderess.) decided that the family fortune would be better off in the hands of one individual, rather than two. And because I was the one who the poison could definitively be linked to, I was the one forced to flee, leaving my son behind. I ran all the way to the coast, where I was attacked while trying to board a ship to Grottis. I died there, so far as anyone knew. My sister was ‘heartbroken’ when she received word, wailing and lamenting her lack of understanding. The court heaped pity upon her, along with expensive gifts to express their sorrow at her loss.
Years later, the king’s witch had arrived at the palace for the first time, pledging loyalty and service to the Toriss family’s enemies.
“It’ll be done, Milady,” I said with a reluctant dip of my head.
“Good. And be quick about it,” Lady Toriss sniffed. She busied herself plucking leaves from a nearby shrub. Anything to keep from looking at my hideous face. “My idiot nephew grows more attached to his ‘wife’ with every day that passes. Yesterday he even had the nerve to suggest to me that she could be brought over to our way of thinking. He even wanted to know if there was an antidote to the poison.” Her eyes narrowed. “There is none, correct?”
Your idiot nephew… My son. I chose my words carefully, trying to make sure that no trace of resentment shone through. “Right enough, milady. None that I ever found, ‘n any case.”
“Good.” A hungry gleam lit her eyes. “And what of the king? When will his demise come about?”
“Soon,” I promised her. “His poison’s a bit trickier.” Tricky indeed, especially considering that it didn’t exist. The king would live a long life. Long enough to choose another heir, if he wasn’t content leaving the throne to his murderous son-in-law, and long enough to charge the Lady Toriss, at least, with conspiring to murder his daughter, as he surely would once he finally realized the switch that had taken place. I would have revealed myself to Rede by that time. And if he accepted me back as his mother, he would come with me as I disappeared from the kingdom as suddenly as I’d appeared. My revenge served, we’d hide far from the king’s soldiers, perhaps in that little country home I’d passed on my travels to and from the coast. We would live long, happy lives together. He couldn’t be that attached to the princess, after all. He’d forgive me, eventually. He’d have to. We’d be a family again. The right kind of family.
I forced myself to return to the situation at hand. “Told ya’ before that the king wouldn’ be idiot enough to leave his plate out. I have to find another way t’ do it.”
“Yes, yes, just let it be soon,” the Lady Toriss snapped. I regarded her closely. Sweat covered her forehead, and her teeth were gritted. One of her hands was shaking. One of her bad spells was upon her, it seemed. Lovely. The very best poisons were nature’s own inventions, built into its victims from birth. First Mother, then Sister. Luckily, it seemed that I took after Father, and Rede took after me.
“Rest easy, milady,” I said quietly. “They’ll be dead ‘n gone before anybody even realizes that the princess is with child.”
I may as well have slapped her. “Excuse me?”
“Saw it straight off when she came for the medicines,” I said, fighting to retain my casual, off-hand tone. Even though I knew that I was speaking of my grandchild… “There’s a babe growing inside her, sure as you please. It’ll never survive, though. Not with the sickness in her veins, even if she lives t’ the time when it’s due. I don’ think they even know of it yet.”
“Good!” the Lady Toriss said. “And in the name of all that’s good, don’t tell them! Especially not my nephew. He’ll be absolutely insufferable if he finds out. That girl needs to die. Now. Or you’ll find yourself in a very unpleasant predicament.” That threatening tone surfaced again. “You’re not the first woman whose poisons I’ve used, and the consequences never fell upon me.”
Just like that, she spoke of it. No regret. No guilt. As unfeelingly as if she was talking about a rodent that had been crushed beneath her carriage’s wheels. And with that, any hesitation I may have felt regarding my plans vanished like a puff of smoke.
“Rest easy,” I said again, dipping into an artfully clumsy curtsey. “When I aim t’ destroy someone-” The same way that she had destroyed me, taking my reputation, my standing, my son... “-there’s not a thing they c’n do about it.”
~
Despite the witch’s assurances, I found myself growing more and more anxious regarding the matter of my nephew’s bride and father-in-law. Especially after considering the ramifications of her carrying his child. We’d discussed the possibility at great length before putting our plan into action, but he’d told me that it wouldn’t be a problem. Of course, he’d also told me that he would not grow attached to the ratty king’s daughter, and I was beginning to see just what kind of a failure that promise had been.
What’s more, I worried that the king and his daughter would begin to put two and two together. The girl now suffered from constant headaches and fevers, along with the pinched expression of someone who’s been considering something very serious for quite some time. Her father was very educated, for a fool, and could be quite perceptive when pulled away from his books. How much time did I have before they looked at her poor health alongside Rede’s glowing countenance and realized the switch that had been made.
The witch had warned me in the beginning that the poison would be a subtle agent, one that was especially attractive to the king and his daughter, but I had never expected it to take this long. By this time the princess should’ve been cold in the ground, rats eating her corpse instead of her bread crumbs.
And that was the other thing. So much waste going on in the palace! The feasts, the parties, and the ratty king coming to Rede every other day to ask for funds to support one of the colleges throughout our kingdom. As if anything useful was to be gained from such institutions. If a student truly wished to learn, they could teach themselves, as I had taught myself, without spending a penny on anything more than the proper materials.
So much waste… It was certainly good that the Toriss family would be seizing control of our nation. I – and of course, Rede – would rule the nation the right way, making sure that money was spent on only essential things. The universities would not receive another copper. The muddy slime-nosers that called themselves ‘needy’ would not be given a cent. Only the truly important people would be allowed to elevate themselves.
The sound of my bedroom door opening jarred me out of my thoughts. It was Rede, looking pale and worried as usual. On the one hand, it helped with the illusion of ill health that we were trying to create. On the other, I worried that he was growing closer and closer to a slip of the tongue that would cause us both our heads. The ratty king was not a violent man under normal circumstances, and was not given to harsh punishment. However, I couldn’t rule out the possibility that – in my case – he would make an exception.
“The king has called us to his private study,” my nephew said quietly. I didn’t much like that soft tone, either; he was reluctant to speak to me as of late. Thinking about things. Dangerous, dangerous things, like love, and regrets.
“Us?” I quirked an eyebrow.
“You, and Feldia and I,” he answered. Again, his reply was so telling. When we began this little scheme of ours, he without a doubt would have phrased it as, “You and I, and Feldia.” Now, he’d grouped himself with her, instead. How much more attached would he be when he learned about the baby? Yes, that girl would have to die. Soon.
He hesitated, something else teetering on the edge of his lips. I prompted him. “And?”
“And,” he said slowly, “the witch, as well. He’s sent all of the guards off. He wants it to be just the five of us.”
I stiffened, sucking a deep breath into my nostrils. There could only be one reason for that. They’ve put it together. I knew by the dull look in Rede’s eyes that he knew it, too. But he didn’t ask the question that he would have a year before. ‘What do we do?’
I answered it anyway. “We’ll go, and we’ll hear him out,” I said firmly as I went to my jewelry box. I dumped out the pearls and the golden chains – pretty things, but ultimately useless, except when used to bury more practical things. Things like the clever little knife with its polished handle, gleaming pleasantly. I heard Rede’s sharp intake of breath from the doorway.
“A precaution, nephew,” I said without looking at him. “I do hate to use such vulgar tools, but if it’s necessary…” I turned to him and repeated myself. “We’ll go. We’ll hear him out. And we’ll settle things, once and for all. You will be king, and we’ll fix our broken nation. The king and his daughter will be nothing more than a tragedy for the history books, but one that was necessary.”
He nodded, but I saw the flicker in his eyes. A chill ran down my spine, but I forced myself to stand tall. “Shall we?”
I tucked my hand into the crook of his arm, and I tucked the knife into a secret pocket hidden in the ruffle of my dress. We walked side by side, down the hall, to the king’s study.

The girl truly took after her ratty father. Their faces were both pinched exactly the same way, and flushed in the same places. She’d inherited his shamed, yet indignant expression right down to the set of his jaw. It seemed that they were not pleased to have their little scheme turned back around on them.
“Feldia,” Rede said, stepping forward to take her hands. She flinched away from him, burying her fingers in the folds of her dress.
“Sire,” I said politely to the ratty king.
“Snake,” he replied, voice hollow. The witch stood in the corner, smiling on at the proceedings as if nothing more than a casual observer.
“Let’s get down to it, shall we?” she crowed. “We all know why we’re here. His Majesty asked me for a poison that’d make the both of you choke, and for a bit of payment I told ya’ enough to pull a switch on ‘em. And now they’ve figured it out. What happens next, do ya’ think?”
“Obviously, the three of you will be executed at once,” the princess said harshly.
“Feldia-”
“Do not speak to me, ‘Husband’.”
“Please, Rede,” I sighed. “Wipe that pathetic expression off of your face. She was planning to do exactly the same thing to you. All we did was switch a glass. The poison was there to begin with. And that’s why we’re here, isn’t it, instead of being hauled off in irons? The two of you were in the wrong to begin with, and we all know where the people’s support would fall. Right alongside the people who have the true power in this world. Money.”
“We were hoping to find a way to settle this out of the public eye, yes,” the king said.
“Settle what?” I asked. “The princess will die. There’s nothing that can be done. There’s no antidote to the witch’s poison. You made sure of that when you bought it from her.”
“It’s true. There’s absolutely nothin’ that c’n be done,” the witch said cheerfully.
“Nothing that can be done about my daughter,” the king said in a thick voice. “But there is something that I can do. Here is what will happen. You will give us control of all of your gold, tonight. I will name Rede my successor when Feldia… When she…”
“When I die, Father,” the princess snapped. Her face was positively grey. “And the Lady Toriss will leave this kingdom and never return. And she should be grateful that we’d even let her do that much!”
“Feldia, I swear, when I agreed to do it, I didn’t realize-” Rede blurted.
“Don’t say another word,” Feldia hissed. “Stay away from me.”
“Very well,” I said grudgingly, ignoring them. “I’ll agree to your terms, so long as I’m allowed to retain some of my gold, to live off of on my journey out of the kingdom.”
The king exchanged an uncertain glance with his daughter. “That… sounds reasonable.”
“Then we’re in agreement.” I stepped forward to shake the king’s hand. He did the same –
And staggered back with my knife in his gut. The princess screamed, and Rede sucked in a quick breath even though he must have known it was coming.
“Snake,” he said again, in a choked voice as his blood streamed down to the floor.
“You shouldn’t have sent your guards away,” I murmured, retrieving my knife and turning it toward the princess. “After all, the witch is unstable. Everyone knows that. She’s a loon. It won’t be hard to convince everyone that she turned violent-”
“Stop! We’ve done enough to Feldia!” Rede cried. I ignored him, focused on the girl who backed away with a horrified expression. I’d stab her right in the belly, and be rid of the baby at the same time.
“I said, stop!” Rede jumped in front of me right as brought the knife forward, too quickly to pull it away. The blade sank into his body, and for a horrified instant we all stared at the knife, and the blood that poured out onto the floor.
“Rede,” the princess breathed in horror.
The witch let out an unearthly scream, flying toward me with more rage than she had any right to feel. I tried to fight her off, but the knife was still in Rede’s stomach as he sank to the floor in the arms of his wife. I wrestled the woman. How can someone so old be so strong? She tore at my dress, my hair, my face, clawing and kicking and screaming all the while.
“You’ve taken him from me again!” she wailed. Again?
I cracked her head against the edge of the king’s desk, and her eyes glazed over as she fell into a limp heap. Panting, I whirled around to find the princess cradling Rede’s head in her lap, tears falling down her cheeks as she looked between him and her father, torn.
I couldn’t have done this, could I? All I’d wanted was to rule the kingdom the way a kingdom should be ruled… I’d never meant to kill Rede. Not my own nephew.
Yet this was how it ended. A dying old woman standing above a dying young woman, with books, and blood, and bodies all around them.

Hey there silentpages!

I think you followed the prompts well. Each character's part was written well and you wrote them in a way that made them sound different fom each other, rather than it being the same voice, just in a different body, if that makes sense? The mulitple points of view gave the story more life too. we got to see the story come to life and build up as each new narrator divulged new information to the plot instead of it just being one sided.

I think they way you made the witch speak was believable, even though she was only pretending to speak that way. I could understand what she was saying, so you didn't alienate your reader or anything.

The plot was good and well thought out. You had a clear motive, but you added another level by having the witch be Rede's mother. So props to you for writing it well and not over complicating anything or confusing the reader.

Your descriptions and dialogue was good too

But I think that the arch of my back only added to the image of what a proper witch looks like, as I’m sure anyone else would agree.

This sentence stuck out to me and I think it was the use of 'think' and 'looks' Maybe you could rewrite it as -

'But I knew that the arch of my back only added to the image of what a proper witch looked like, as I’m sure anyone else would agree.'

“Please, Rede,” I sighed.

The comma should be a full stop here.

***

Overall, I think you have a good shot of winning the contest with this entry. The ending wasn't what I'd been expecting, which was good. You mixed it up a bit, instead of just having the princess die like Lady Toriss had wanted. You've certainly made me doubt my entry.

I hope this helps and good luck in the contest!

xDudettex

Wow, I'm not sure what the writers Roulette is, but this probably has a really good chance of winning! You have great details, not too much so that we know every little thing that, quite frankly, we don't want to know. And not so little that we have no idea what's going on. You also developed the characters well right from the get-go. You described them in subtle ways,

The circlet of gold had never seemed to fit right since his hair started to thin.

I asked impatiently, flicking a tendril of brown hair out of my eyes

Rather than just saying: My father's hair was thinning. Or, she had brown hair.

I'm short on time, but from what I gathered in the first few paragraphs and skimming the rest, you have quite an interesting plot! I love how you made it so intricate and that you had so many twists!

Also, I love that you had little sayings in there. Did you make them up, or are they actual sayings? Like the one about the fish and the river. Really clever!

Let me know if you need anything else reviewed:) I'll get more nit-picky if you request!

Hey pages! Here for a review! ^_^

First off, I just want to say that I loved this story. Tragedies are great and this one was really well written and executed; the plot was complex and yet also follow-able, and you really thought out the entire plot. I love how well everything comes together in the end. Honestly, this feels like something that should be a novel! It's got too many twists and such to call it just a short story; if you wanted to expand this into a longer work, I think it could easily be done, and even perhaps improve it.

For instance, you could really delve into characterization, which is the one thing I felt was lacking in this story. Obviously, the evil aunt comes across quite well as her own person, as does the witch/mother. The prince and princess each felt a bit flat...both are acting under the guidance of their family mentors, and I think that showing a bit more between the two would have made for a more emotional read. I never really felt connected to anyone in the story except for the witch when I found out she was the mother (great twist, by the way! Made me think of Sweeney Todd, too...but I'm getting off focus).

One other thing that could have given the story a little more clarification was every section that was written from a different POV. Since most of the voices sounded similar, it was hard to differentiate and be able to tell just who was speaking. If you had started each section with the person's name, I think it would have made the story easier to understand and follow.

A dying old woman standing above a dying young woman, with books, and blood, and bodies all around them.

This part I found a bit confusing; who exactly is she talking about? I'm thinking it's herself as the old woman and the princess as the young, but I'm not quite sure who is completely dead and who may be still hanging on to life. And how is the evil aunt dying -- is it because she stabbed her nephew, is that what she's referring to?

All right, so that's all I've got to critique. Really, this was a great story; I think it just could have used more room to be written, but that's where the challenge of word limits comes into play. Anyway, thanks again for entering, and keep up the great work! Cheers.

I'm not oneto drag things out, so I'm going to get right to the point. Your story was epic, and if you didn't win the contest already, you have a good shot at it. I've always been a sucker for violent stories and tragedies, so this story captured and held my full attention. I couldn't stop reading it! I saw very few grammar errors, and you did a good job using language from the time period like "with child" rather than just being boring and using "pregnant." I also loved how you made each chapter in a different person's perspective. That way, we get a good assortment of point of views
All in all it was a great story that was well written and a deffinite winner.