Characters: Gena, Roxanne, Frankie, Lucilla, Cara, Queen Isabella, Countess Olivia
“I’m sorry,” Lucilla said. “We don’t allow Forsaken scum into the royal box section.”
Gena put her finger on the Paladin’s shimmering blue sword, which was aimed directly between her breasts, and gently pushed it away. “Stand down, tramp. I’m here to see Queen Isabella. She asked to speak to me before the tournament.”
“I’ll need to see that in writing.”
“I’ll write it over your face in blood if you don’t move.”
“You’re testing me, Necromancer.”
Another armored female Paladin appeared from the doorway with her hand on the hilt of her sword. “Is there a problem here, Miss Lucilla?”
“We have a couple of harlots claiming to have an audience with the Queen. Go check it out, Cara.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Cara said, bowing her head slightly as she disappeared around the corner. Lucilla kept her steady blue eyes forward, staring down Gena and Roxanne.
“That’s an ugly necklace,” she said at last, not even giving Gena the satisfaction of looking at her. “Where’d you get it—Ye Olde Whore?”
“Hey!” Frankie cried out. He kicked his feet as he dangled from Gena’s neck. “Is she talking about me?”
“Forget her,” Gena said, trying to restrain herself. “We’ll have her badge before the end.”
Lucilla laughed, both bitter and cruel. “Have my badge? Ha. You’d have to pry it from my cold, dead hands.”
“I think I’d like that,” Roxanne said.
“…You just watch yourselves. I have no problem striking you down where you stand.”
“Do it then,” Gena said with a soft, edgy undercurrent flowing through her voice. “I dare you, Paladin. Charge me. Cut me. Make me laugh. Because when you’re dead at my feet, kissing them with your bleeding white lips, I’ll tell Isabella that I had to do it in self-defense.”
The fingers around Lucilla’s sword tightened. “…We’ll have our day, Necromancer. We’ll have our day and you’ll see what happens to Forsaken scum that try to snake their way into the life of my master. By the Light, I have no regret in watching you die.”
Cara reappeared in the doorway with a friendly smile. “It’s okay. Queen Isabella has asked that they be seated with her until it is their turn to fight. You may pass.”
Lucilla started to protest, but Gena was too quick. She slapped her hand over the Paladin’s mouth and smirked. “Excuse me, I’d love to keep talking down to you, but I believe the Queen wishes to see me. Enjoy your post…bitch.” She whispered the last word into Lucilla’s ear, so that she was the only one to hear. Cara just smiled and lowered her head as Gena stepped by.
“See you, hot stuff,” Roxanne said, swinging her hips to get through Lucilla. Her heavy armor knocked Lucilla off balance for a moment, throwing her back against the wall. She glared and raised her sword, but they were gone by now.
“Ma’am?” Cara said.
Puffing her cheeks in irritation, Lucilla sheathed her sword and leaned against the doorway as still as the dead. “…I’ll have their heads, Cara. I know they’re up to something and, by the Light, I’ll have their heads on a platter the moment they make their move.”
Meanwhile, inside the royal box section, there stood a great table at least fifty feet across with chairs big enough to seat three on both ends and one side. On the side without chairs, a long window was cut into the wall. It matched the table in length and width, long and narrow, and looked out over the colossal arena and thousands of stadium seats. The table was decorated in fruits and breads and colorful candles and gold silverware, all of which looked so delicious against the red and white-trimmed tablecloth. There were ten chairs in all and each one looked like a throne between its spongy cushions and gargoyle headpiece, which stared out over the arena with its stone-encrusted eyes.
Only two of the seats were filled, though. Queen Isabella in one, towards the middle, and Countless Olivia next to her. Along the back of the wall, there stood four or four Paladins with polearms in their hands, chests out, silent as phantoms.
“We’re here, Your Highness,” Gena said, bowing as she entered the room. Roxanne did the same.
“Oh, thank you!” Isabella squealed. “I was getting so terribly bored sitting here alone.”
Olivia glared at her, but she didn’t notice. Pushing out her chair, Isabella rose and shook hands with Gena and Roxanne before offering them two seats next to her. When they went to sit, though, they caught a glimpse of a small imp tied to one of the front legs of the queen’s chair. He was hunched over, his long red horns hanging over his face like a sad puppy, and his chain didn’t leave much room for him to move freely.
“I see you found a good use for Narsis,” Roxanne laughed.
“He likes it here with me. Don’t you, little guy? Don’t you, don’t you, don’t you?” She tickled him under his chin with her pinky and then used his body as a stepping stool to slide back into her chair.
“I hate you all,” Narsis hissed, walking in a circle three times before laying down at Isabella’s feet. She had on crystal slippers, which probably could have been pawned and used to feed at least a thousand peasants like him, and she dangled them over Narsis with the same air of superior that she dangled over everybody else.
Olivia cleared her throat. “Excuse me, cousin. You forgot to introduce me to your friends.”
Isabella waved her hand, quick and light, as if she was shooing a fly and nothing more. “Don’t mind that. That’s just the voice of some pest that likes to follow me everywhere.”
“Well, for a shadow, she sure can’t complement your beauty,” Gena said. “You’re looking simply ravishing in that dress, Your Highness. And that hat! I adore it. You truly are beautiful enough to be a queen.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” she laughed, drifting into a smile as pearl white as her many necklaces. “Thank you. But please, no more of these formalities. You may call me Isabella.”
“Of course, Isabella.”
Roxanne had been rolling an apple around the table under her fingertip, but she suddenly looked over and saw Olivia, a blank expression in her face, staring off into nothingness. She seemed to be whispering something low under her breath. The apple rolled away from Roxanne’s hand.
“Is she okay?” she asked.
Isabella glanced over at Olivia, who didn’t acknowledge either of them, and then leaned over to whisper something to only Gena and Roxanne. “She’s always been a little strange. We think she might be suffering from minor insanity.”
Olivia’s eyes drifted upward and she began talking to her hair.
“Nothing minor about that,” Gena said.
“Ugh, no,” the queen said, sliding back into her seat. “She carries a little guy around in her hair. He’s like her…assistant or something. It’s really gross.”
“I’m back,” came a voice and Kadaj began walking across the table towards Olivia.
“Bug!” Roxanne screamed. She raised her palm.
Isabella stopped her with a small gesture. “No, wait… That’s her assistant.”
“Oh…” Roxanne frowned. “…Then who is she—?”
They all stared over at Olivia, who continued carrying on a one-sided conversation with her hair.
“Like I said,” Isabella went on after a deep breath. “She’s insane.”
Giantess World
