Into the gray brick room Sir Calidan opened the heavy door. He liked this room. It had one of the few doorways he didn't have to duck through.

"Ah, Calidan, late as always," the Queen said, folding her hands into her lap, "I trust you did not tell others where you were headed?"

Calidan bowed, "Of course not. It's only been twenty or so years of service. I think I've learned secrecy by now."

"You think," replied the Queen. Calidan could almost feel her eyes rolling.

"Is this about the. . . strange boy?" Calidan stood, taking up half the room.

The queen's eyes threw daggers at Calidan."How did. . . Yes, it is about that traitor, but more importantly, about that village," the queen sighed, "There are troubles. Talks of free speech. . . personal liberties. . . voting. . ." she trailed off, now looking out the window beside her. Even the birds knew not to sing. She wasn't in a vengeful mood, but how could the birds know. They kept their songs to themselves, and hopped away.

Calidan straightened his back at the word "voting". The first sunny day all year, and I have to water the fields with blood.. he thought. Everybody knew the royal family was voted into power generations ago. They kept the power to themselves.

He had been asking himself how much longer he wanted to be a knight, let alone the queen's most trusted -- he wondered if he had ever wanted to be a knight at all, or if fate forced him into being the violent fist of the queen.

"Do you want us to go and, uh, well, 'water the daises'?" he cracked his knuckles, a habit of his when he's not looking forward to the answer.

"Twenty years of service, huh? Really?", the queen looked at him sharply, "Do you think I tell you these things to make myself feel better? Yes, go water the fucking daisies or whatever else you want to call it."

Calidan slumped, and looked at the ground, "Yes m'Queen" and turned to exit the room. He was hoping to enjoy the day, now the sunshine will make the blood ripen quickly. He grimaced, thinking of the copper stench.

He marched to the barracks, each step goading him into writing his notice of retirement. The queen would just behead me --same day-- if I was fired. Do I even need a two week notice? He entered the barracks, and told the guard on duty to round up seven others. I don't want to smell today, he thought, and changed into breathable clothes. Today I'll be an observer.. Yes YES that's it! I'll decide who gets a promotion, and then the queen will tell me there's no room for promotions, and I'll tell her there's a space freeing up as "most trusted knight" and.. he paused as he thought of the queens reaction, and then there might be some space freeing up right above my neck.. he sighed, tightening his leather boots.

A guard yelled from outside, "Here, sir!". Calidan walked out into the courtyard, and only saw the single man at attention. "Is it only you", Calidan asked, "You announced when only you arrived?"

The guard fidgeted, "Err -- Yes, sir!". Calidan slapped his forehead, Fuck me, I'm never going to retire. "How long have you served the Queen?"

"A fortnight, sir, but I have generations of service from my father and his father befor--" Calidan's mind drifted as the guard continued on and on. We're really using kids now, huh? Maybe the war isn't going as well as I'm being told... when he looked up, three more guards had fallen into a line behind the teenager.

"Right, are you lads ready? The others can catch up on the road," Calidan said as he turned to walk out the thick iron wrought gate. He heard the metal boots move quickly, forming a rhythm as they fell into line behind him.

The gate groaned open, exposing them all to the hot sun and dirt.

"Where are we going, sir?" the child in shining metal armor asked.

"To water the fields" Calidan replied sharply. A pause let him know the guard was thinking. "Sir. . . Isn't that a job for farmers?" he asked sheepishly. Good King, I've never killed a guard but that my change today, Calidan thought.

Calidan looked back and saw another guard had fallen into line. Missing two; ruining a sunny day AND I need to do paperwork? Great. Wonderful day, he thought to himself, kicking a rock on the path.

They reached the outskirts of the village, and Calidan told the soldiers to march into the center and yell about traitors, free speech, etc. He was going to do some reconaissance. As the metal clanging grew quieter, Calidan went into the pub.

Before his eyes could adjust, he heard whispers, "Unionization . . . Collective bargaining . . . Sick time--" he almost couldn't believe what he was hearing. He absolutely could not believe that he was agreeing with them.

"-- and we can depose the Crimson Bitch once and for all!" A scraggly man banged on the table with such gusto that Calidan felt admiration well up inside him.

"Crimson Bi-- you mean the Crimson Monarch?" he asked, having heard that name before but never understanding, "What is that?"

The man laughed, "The vengeful tyrant, the murderous woman, the queen!" the man laughed, then fell silent and eyed Calidan, "Where are you from?"

"Err," Calidan cracked a knuckle, "From the, uh. . . I arrived by boat earlier today, on the way to see the queen. . . but I got thirsty! Haha." he looked around, gauging the others' faces.

The group stared at him, until a burly man sitting down said, "Then take this to her" and flipped his middle finger. They exploded into laughter, and beckoned Calidan to join them.

The mead was served quickly, and consistently. Laughter was not often heard throughout the kingdom, especially in the castle, but it was abundant here. Calidan slammed his fist on the table, "Down with the queen!" and raised his glass. The force of several others clinking against it splashed the drink high. . . . .

That's all I'm able to write for now, will come back to it if there's any interest. Thanks for reading!

r/XandertheWriter

Anselm woke up early, polished his armor to a mirror shine, oiled the joints, cleaned his sword, and was ready to report to the Queen's side by sun up. The castle was both beautiful, and inspiring.

The coloring of the walls was a paint made from pigments from every province in the kingdom mixed together, a symbol of unity that produced the darkest black you could get from a paint here. Despite the dark walls, the place was well lit by all the bright and cheery fireplaces, and sconces on the walls.

He entered the Queen's throne room before she arrived, and went to stand beside the throne in anticipation. The throne itself was a Wondrous statement of commitment to the kingdom's legacy, she kept a memento of her father, specifically his skull, mounted atop the throne itself, with his crown still on his head. The Queen said she wanted to remind people how she had come to power, which Anselm knew to be from a strong family bond. The Queen was remarkably well adjusted for a girl who had witnessed her own father tragically fall out of her own bedroom window on the day she came of age.

Some commoners were lined up to petition the queen, and as a servant informed Anselm the Queen was arriving shortly, he cued the crowd to begin singing. This was his favorite part of the mornings, hearing the citizens sing cheery melodies about their unwavering Obedience to the crown, and the blood the Queen would shed to maintain loyalty.

Finally, she arrived. Humble as ever, instead of wearing a golden threaded robe of rich purples and reds, and a gaudy overjeweled crown, she wore a simple black robe, and her own tiara made out of gold pulled from the teeth of the traitors and criminals she locked up in her first days as Queen. Truly it was a physical reminder of the dedication she had for rooting out corruption in the court, why she had no hesitation in rooting out even some of her father's closest confidants, once she found evidence of corruption in her own personal investigations.

The first peasant begged for his only son to be released from military service. Their farm wasn't running as well without the youthful lad, and he hadn't been able to keep up with the crowd's food tax on his own.

His Queen of course, spoke in simple clear words and let herself be understood. His son was serving the greater good, and now his father was shaming his service with his bickering. The official punishment for trying to desert a military draft was of course death, and death for your immediate family. However the queen showed the man mercy, Anselm drew his shortsword, and held it out to the farmer as the queen gave him the chance to spare his son's life by carrying out his own penalty to himself.

The selfish old man spat at her feet and called her a wicked evil old hag. Honestly, it was preposterous, she had never done an illegal thing in her life.

How could you be evil if you followed the law? Truly, it was nonsense. He pondered this as he dragged the man's body out of the Queen's sight.

[removed]

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