The Mad Queen

Chapter Sixty-Five: The Castle

I see my father. He is asleep in a bed somewhere in the palace. The door opens slowly and Leander Drake, followed by some other boys, slowly walk in. There is a cruel grin on his face. In his hand is a large bucket. He and the boys wear gloves and I watch in horror as he scoops his hand into the bucket. He pulls out a large scoop of something sticky and brown. The boys laugh again, each taking a handful. Leander whispers, counting to three. At the same time, the boys throw the brown sludge all over my father. He jumps up quickly though he can't move from the onslaught of what looks like horse shit being thrown all over him. He lets out a shout and Leander and his friends laugh harder.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Matthias shouts, his body now covered in shit. I am glad I can't smell in these visions. He looks a state but he doesn't cry. His face is a look of rage, especially as the boys continue to laugh.
"Come on Matthias, it is just a joke. We do them on each other all the time," Leander says though it is both obvious to me and my father that the group are clearly laughing at him instead of with him.
"We thought you would like it," one of the other boys laughs. "Horse shit for the horse boy." My father clenches his fists and looks to Leander for help. The boy doesn't give it to him. He just smiles cooley and shrugs. My father grits his teeth.
"Good luck getting to the bathing house without being seen," another mocks. They laugh as they leave the room. My father sits back down and looks around. There is shit everywhere. All over him, the walls and his bedding. He can still hear the boys laugh as they leave. A small tear falls down his face before he tries to sort himself out.

The vision changes. My father is standing on the training field with the other boys. Most are nobles with Leander. He stands on his own whilst they laugh at him. Others are young orphans picked off the streets, Training to be in the Red Guard. A boy, slightly younger than my father comes over to him. My guess is he is about thirteen where my father is fifteen.
"You need to show them they can't walk over you if you want to survive here as a noble," the boy says to my father.
"How do I do that?" he asks. I can tell by the heavy bags under his eyes that this is the morning after the shit incident. The boy shrugs.
"I normally just beat the shit out of them," he replies. My father smiles softly.
"Won't I get punished?" he asks.
"Not if you don't get caught. Or do it on the training field if you want everyone to see it."
"I am only average with a weapon. I won't be able to defeat them," my father sighs as one of the boys' lines up and readies to duel my father. The other boy shrugs.
"Well, you had better get good soon or they are going to walk all over you. The leader of that particular group is Lord Leander. If you get that fuck out of the way, then they will follow you." The way the boy speaks makes me forget that he looks to be only thirteen. He speaks far beyond his years.
"Come on Matty boy!" the other boy shouts as he swings his sword. "Let's see what you got!" he continues. My father gulps nervously and walks into the duelling space. The two begin to fight. My father isn't bad. Not at all. He holds his own fairly well. In fact, he even starts to win. Not happy with this, the other boy spits right in his eyes. My father finches and whilst he is distracted, the other boy kicks him in the stomach. My father falls to the ground in a heavy lump. The boy continues to kick at my father's chest and stomach, causing my father to spit up blood. Finally, he stops after no one came to help.
"Try and make a fool of me again horse boy and I'll fucking kill you," he snarls and walks off. The group of boys laugh and turn, leaving my father lying in his own blood in the middle of the training fields.

Cordelia wears one of her heavy black cloaks as she escapes the castle and leaves into the city. She takes her usual route and is noticed by none. She rushes quickly through the streets of the capital, knowing the route without even having to think about it.

She stops when she comes to a large, five-story building. Its walls do not fit in with the dull brown stone of the buildings around it. This one is painted a pristine white. The windows have clean, diamond-shaped glass inside and plants on the window sills. The wooden door is large and a striking shade of red. She takes out a key and opens it. Inside is light with multiple candles that hang on silver candelabras. The walls are white marble and are lined with flecks of silver. A great, candlelit diamond chandelier hangs from the ceiling. The room is full of people all surrounding the centre. In the centre is a raised marble platform where a woman and man dance erotically, both wearing skimpy clothing. Right in the corner of the room, a woman watches on. Her eyes glance to Cordelia as she walks in. Her eyes widen and she quickly rushes around the room. She grabs Cordelia's hand and pulls her from the performance and into her own private chambers.
"Princess," her silky voice sings as she helps Cordelia remove her cloak. Cordelia smiles softly, a slight blush playing at her cheeks.
"Giovana," she replies back as she takes in the woman's beautiful features. She is a Mer. Like most mer, her face is scarred. Though she covers it with a silky red patch. Her skin is beautiful and dark. Her black hair has been tied into multiple long, thin braids that fall all the way to her hips. Some of the braids have flecks of copper in them. The little strands are so shiny and vibrant and can almost be mistaken for a mixture of a golden orange-pink. The same colour sits around her eyes, the scales intricately patterned to fit the features of her face. They match her eyes which are the same vibrant copper as all the other scales that decorate the curves of her skin. Her full lips have been painted in a delicate pink glitter. She wears a spectacular royal blue two-piece dress that shows of her toned stomach. The hems of each item are lined with copper swirls that make her scales pop even more.