Warm sunlight penetrated the windows of the master bedroom, illuminating the room with a morning glow. The curtains were thrust back in an attempt to gather more of earth’s golden light, painting the cream-colored walls yellow. From a distance away, birds and crickets chirped outside making the room even more enchanting. Though I wish I could hear them if it wasn’t for the butler spouting nonsense. 

“The senate is furious!” The butler, Matthew barked. His face was a flaming bright red, contrasting his gray comb over hairstyle. 

I looked away, upright in my bed and sipping at the tea neatly placed on a porcelain tray. 

“Matthew, I’m not swayed by politics,” I answered him calmly, setting down the teacup to pour another fill of the drink. 

“You must be if it involves you, my lady!” he angrily criticized. 

I sigh, my attention going back to stirring the piping hot liquid. I already knew the news and papers were concerning me. 

“Duchess, these are serious allegations which you cannot take lightly,” he pressed on, pacing back and forth on the linoleum tile. 

“Who said I was?” I replied unconvinced, my eyes remaining downwards at the newspaper that was neatly placed on the tray next to my morning tea. I barely had a chance to even read it with all of this futile yelling. 

“Duchess-“ 

I looked up at Matthew, watching his red face begin to pale as he turned his back to leave. Finally there was some quiet in this dukedom. As I sat unaccompanied in my chamber, I began to read the newspaper’s title, speaking volumes in its bold lettering. 

Duchess Allegedly Murders Newly Appointed King! Queen heartbroken by the Loss of her Husband. 

A laugh threatens to escape from my mouth but I shut it, cautious to anyone that could be eavesdropping. They truly do have a knack for making their stories outlandish. Though, not entirely false either. 

For I did kill the King. And the Queen hired me to do it. 

— 

“What’s this, Jeanette?” I question, my smile fading as I watch her fingers slip a note under my hand. It glided across the table below the tips of my fingers, its coarseness catching on flesh. Anyone looking could guess it was a small exchange between friends.

The queen requested a visit at the palace, graciously inviting me into her private conservatory. Though private didn’t equal small. Its vast iron rod window panes allowed sunlight to pour in from the walls and ceiling, giving life to the greenery. It was littered with all sorts of imported plants, vines crawling up the walls and into the flooring, bushes trimmed to the utmost precision, and the Queen’s personal favorite peonies scattered and covering open soil. Some peonies even rested neatly in a glass vase prior to my visit along with cakes and pastries all scattered about on the carved mahogany table. Even still, the eccentric scenery was pale to the darling appearance of my old friend, Queen Jeanette. 

She sat with legs crossed and hands resting on the table, flawlessly poised. Blonde hair that once flowed to her waist now strung into a low-centered up-do, what small flyways she had being curled and pinned into place. Her green eyes focused on stirring her tea, lips frowning into an upset curve. She appeared solemn. 

“I just wanted to congratulate you on your newest investments, I hope they prosper under the Clestian Kingdom,” Jeanette smiled curtly, grabbing the nearest pastry on one of the many extravagant displays. 

Her vast change of character made the hairs on my neck rise, the eyes of my dear friend sinuously evolving into something much more sinister. Ever since we were younger, her mind reminded me much like a rose. Appearing to be beautiful. Sweet. But thorns made her deadly and despair followed suit. And this request was a thorn drawing blood. 

My investment is an assignment. An assignment to kill. 

“I haven’t made one in a while, what makes you believe that I’ll do so again?” I questioned, forcing myself to joyfully chuckle a bit at the end of my sentence. 

“Because it’s an order, not a request, Duchess Margaux.” 

It had seemed as though all the air was sucked out of the room, leaving me yearning for a breath. The bold request had left the room in an unfamiliar atmosphere, some servants craning their heads this way or whispering gossip between one another. There was a shift in power. And I wasn’t the only one that seemed to have felt it. 

“You have really stepped in your role, your majesty,” I pointed out. 

Jeanette’s lips curled into a smirk, her body straightening into a commanding posture, replying, “You’re astute, dearest Margaux. I wish that wealth in parchment pleases you well.” 

The paper was a code. 

“Thank you, your grace. May the sun shine upon the Clestian Kindom,” I reply, the sweet face pleasantries tasting like foreign venom on my tongue. 

If the crown didn’t fit before, it was molded perfectly into her head now. 

I returned to my carriage, hesitating to open up the folded note. It felt fresh, the warmth of my hand hearing the surface of the paper, crinkling at the contact. As it was unfolded, I leaned back, examining the curved letters. 

Stabbed 

Influenced guards outside the chamber 

The last sentence struck me with terror, my hands shaking with an uncontrollable dread. It had been a while since I truly made arrangements to kill, only doing so to gain power and money for the dukedom. But what was there to gain from doing such evil? Jeanette was truly asking for the impossible. 

Kill the King in his personal quarters 

—