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Poison Princess

August 19, 2014

Two vials lay before me, the fate of the Kingdom in my hands. I weighed them against each other, so slender and lethal, filled with potential. One a poison, the other a cure, which future would I choose?

I’d been raised a Princess of the Blood, nurtured on politics and intrigue, schooled in the uses of power and privilege, trained to never let my emotions overrule my head. My aching heart cried out for retribution, my mind saw the ways I might ease the plight of my conquered people. Which duty was greater, the one I owed my subjects or the one I owed myself?

The choice was hard but generations of service to the Throne of Frissia demanded it. I popped the cork on a vial. I tossed the contents down my throat. I grimaced at the sickly sweet aftertaste. I raised the second vial, smashing it against the unyielding marble floor.

Before I could react a grey rat oozed out from the wainscoting and lapped at the puddle. Within moments it lay twitching and writhing on the floor.  I wiped up the remaining droplets, tossing the moisture laden rags and the rat’s body into the fire. Carefully, I waved the fumes away.

I straightened my finery and rang the bell, summoning my attendants. My Ladies in Waiting bustled in. Briskly, they draped me with the Crown Jewels. “It is time Your Highness.” Chancellor Leibensperger announced from the doorway. I laid my hand on his offered arm and swept out of my room for the last time.

The Royal Cathedral was packed with the armed guards of the enemy, and the remains of my Nobility and Gentry, even a few of the peasants had managed to squeeze in to witness the ceremony. Thick clouds of incense wafted over me as the ArchPriest droned his way through the joint rituals of wedding and coronation. “I present to you, Their Imperial Majesties, Ruperto Boisse-kilgo II of Malimar and his wife Princess Melisande.”

My new husband gave me a quick brutal kiss, bruising my lips. I plastered a neutral expression on my face and turned to greet my people. A forced cheer rocked the groined apse. “Now our Kingdoms are one! You made the right choice Princess. I can’t wait to taste your honey, little bee.” He growled coarsely in my ear making a play on the meaning of my name.

“You are my husband, I shall not resist you. Enough of my people have already perished in this fruitless war.” I replied.

He responded by giving me a deeper, longer kiss. I opened my mouth to him meekly, letting him sweep his tongue inside. He stood tall on the daïs while he accepted the pledges of loyalty. The ceremony had just finished when he suddenly began choking, his face turning red. Concerned aides ran to help him to no avail. He managed to gasped out, “wife, what have you done?”

“Me? Why I’ve poisoned you husband. This honey bee has a fatal sting.” I smiled sweetly as he died.


500 Words in response to Finish That Thought #2-7, 500 word limit,  Special Challenge: Include an accidental death.

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