Rose/Thorn

Prologue

Five Hundred Years before the Reign of Queen Iris

The Death of Queen Ivy

The queen was dying, she was ill and dying. That was the main thought on the queendoms mind. Queen Ivy would be the only queen in Isadorian history to die young. The only good news was that she wouldn’t be murdered like so many before her. It was rumored among the people that the next heir to the throne could only become queen by killing the current one. No one really understood that rumor; they guessed it was just to put some spice to the next queen’s coronation. But the ruling queen always died before the next one was crowned. But now no one would suspect Ivy’s daughter of murder.

Princess Iris was only thirteen. It was at such a merciless age that she would lose her mother and her childhood. But that didn’t trouble her; after all, her mother had raised her to be merciless and non-hesitant. She would make a powerful leader, she would be remembered. So Iris would wait until the time was right to make her move. Until then she’d stay meek, quiet, and act like the helpless, crying daughter she needed to be. As long as they continued to believe she was the epitome of innocence and purity. Then she’d strike.

And what of her mother you ask? That’s simple, Ivy waited in her sick bed. When the moon was high she’d call for Iris. It’d be a full moon, the perfect witness to her death. Weren’t the stars already witness to all her sins? Ivy would not beg for mercy or forgiveness, she was far too prideful for that. Besides, she didn’t want forgiveness, or mercy, she didn’t feel guilt for anything. She would die quickly, because she had suffered enough, not just from her illness, but from the curse that went with being queen. And she wouldn’t dare cry. That was weakness; that she couldn’t tolerate. She wasn’t weak, and she was no fool. Only fools showed wavering in the end, she was no fool. She would die at her daughter’s hands, like her own mother, who only became queen by poisoning her sister, her only rival.

Now the moon was high, its light cast a faint glow across the two female faces. Their dark eyes shone obsidian in the dim light. They had sent the guards away so they could be alone. Every word was planned before it was said, everything had been considered, it was the family game.

Ivy stared at her daughter’s face that so much resembled her own. Almost dry tears stained her cheeks. Iris had put on quite a show for the two guards; their eyes had glowed with pity. “Fools”, thinks Ivy, “if only they knew how much she really hated their prying eyes.” Iris, to Ivy’s dismay, was an early bloomer. Her beauty had caught the attention of every soul in the country. If her husband were still living Ivy was sure he’d take one look at the girl and say she was just like her, and then laugh that spiteful laugh. If there was anyone Ivy hated more than anything, it would be her late husband Rodrick.

“Well Mother”, said the girl, pulling Ivy from her thoughts.

“Well what”, she spits harshly.

“Don’t you have any last words?”

Ivy smiles, “If I do I’ll take them to the grave.” Iris glares just like her mother hoped. Like her, her daughter was no fool. A second passes and the child’s glare softens, she giggles, Ivy hated it when she did that. “You know Mother, you really should’ve tried being nicer. Daddy always wished you’d change”, she says, her voice sweet and childish. Ivy scowled, she hated talk of her husband, he was a con, a right fool. He made everyone believe he was nice, he even went as far as pretending to love her. Truth was he was scared like everyone else.

“Don’t speak of your father in front of me, I hate him”, she spits and Iris sighs.

“Poor Daddy”, she mumbles but does not speak of him again.

Instead she leans out of her chair and hugs her mother tightly. She begins to cry. “Fool”, says Ivy and Iris laughs, but it’s lighter than usual. When she pulls away, there’s a smile on her face, in her left hand is a dagger and in her right an embroidered handkerchief. She was ready. “Mother did you ever love me”, she asks and her mother scowls. Iris stares at her, waiting for an answer, her eyes soft, sad, and demanding. “Please”, she begs and Ivy laughs. “Who could really love you, you’re just as spiteful and dark as I am”, she says, her voice rose. Iris, slightly blushing from embarrassment, scowls and plunges the dagger into her mother’s heart. She twists and turns it, so Ivy can feel her pain, then pulls it out. “All I wanted was the truth”, she says in a shrill voice. With her free hand she takes her mother's left one, lying limp as the light left Queen Ivy's eyes. This was important, they had to be touching. Then, with a flick of her wrist, the evidence was gone. The wound closes, the blood on both their clothes seeps into the color and merged, and the dagger disappeared.

Iris closes her mother’s angry eyes and fixes her blanket. She kisses the woman's cheek, while fresh tears roll down her own. The handkerchief is ready when she screams and the guards, the adviser, and the doctor, all come running. She lets herself be taken away by the maids, while sobbing loudly. She gives them the show they expect. But later in her room, she lies on her bed, laughing bitterly. She cradles the still bloody dagger. Then quietly, she begins to cry. Tears again roll down her cheeks, but not in the salty waves they were before, but as shy streams. Licking one away, she tastes the ocean and smiles. Gripping the dagger tighter she whispers to the room. “I love you Mommy”, then laughs bitterly again and calls herself a fool, as Ivy no doubt, would.