The
Huntsman, a plain, soft-spoken man, lowered his bulk to one knee
before the throne. His tibia noted the coldness and hardness of the
smooth floor and came to the conclusion that a nice thick carpet or
even a throw pillow wouldn't be a bad idea. Head
bowed respectfully,
the Huntsman remained silent until he was given permission to speak, ignoring the complaints coming from the vicinity of his right knee. After several long moments filled with intense screen-tapping, the Queen dropped the phone into her lap and addressed her visitor. “I have a task for you, Huntsman,” she announced in a satin voice, the words slithering into every corner, filling the throne room with their sinuous, seductive vocal inflections. “But I must ask it remains a private dealing. You'll be well rewarded, of course.” She had one ear-bud in and the other she twirled by the cord; her slender fingers and pointed red nails moved in lazy circles, the single ear bud spun hypnotically. “You can keep a secret, can't you?”
the Huntsman remained silent until he was given permission to speak, ignoring the complaints coming from the vicinity of his right knee. After several long moments filled with intense screen-tapping, the Queen dropped the phone into her lap and addressed her visitor. “I have a task for you, Huntsman,” she announced in a satin voice, the words slithering into every corner, filling the throne room with their sinuous, seductive vocal inflections. “But I must ask it remains a private dealing. You'll be well rewarded, of course.” She had one ear-bud in and the other she twirled by the cord; her slender fingers and pointed red nails moved in lazy circles, the single ear bud spun hypnotically. “You can keep a secret, can't you?”
“Yes,
majesty.”
One
corner of her dark red lips slid into a smile. “Good,” she
purred, “Walk with me.” The Queen uncrossed her legs and stood,
descending the steps of the raised throne with fluid movements. The
Huntsman scrambled to his feet and fell into step behind her,
followed by two body guards. They made their way down a pristine
corridor decorated with suites of armor and portraits of royalty with
stern countenances. The Queen continued to concentrate on her phone,
somehow balancing on high heels while texting. Before
they reached the ornate double doors at the end of the passage the
Queen tossed the device over her shoulder, one of the guards caught
it and sprinted to deliver a
fresh one to his mistress, storing the phone flashing “low battery”
in his pocket. They positioned themselves on either side of the door
as the Queen and the Huntsman passed through it, stoically facing the
empty hall.
The
Huntsman caught his breath at the sight that awaited them; they were
on a balcony overlooking the capital
city of Tek, the whole kingdom spread out far below. The Queen
did not seem impressed by the view, she gazed down at the rooftops
with a cold, calculating stare. “I need you to take care of someone,”
she said, her pale back – much of it exposed by the flattering cut
of her evening dress – turned to him. “I understand you are not
adverse to accepting such
jobs.”
“No,
majesty. Only tell me who.”
“My
niece. The sooner the better.”
The
Huntsman gasped, “The
princess? But-”
“Never
mind why!” The Queen
snapped, “You have your orders. When the weather turns fair you
will take her into the forest and
end her wretched life. I prefer not to get my hands dirty, but if you
turn soft I'll kill both of you myself.”
“Yes,
majesty.”
“Oh,
and Huntsman,” she turned to face him, a
smile lingering on her perfect lips, “bring me back her heart, as
proof of a job well done. Dismissed.”
The
Huntsman bowed and hurried away.
Once
alone, the Queen held up her phone for a selfie, examining her
features in the screen. She didn't blink when it spoke to her, a
slightly tinny male voice floating out of the speaker.
“Lovely
though you are
the
child of prophecy will
surpass
you one day.”
“Haikus
today, is it?” The Queen adjusted a lock of dark hair, “Relax.
I've taken care of it. The girl won't be a problem for much longer.”
“The
haiku
is free
The
rhyming couplet wears chains
Can
you outrun fate?”
The
Queen held down the power button. “Yes. I can,” she hissed.
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