Chapter Text
Queenie sat on her throne, like usual. She was bored, and she had sent in some jester to make her feel better, the bells on his suit jingling with every movement.
“H-… hello there, your majesty! I’m glad I’m worthy of per- performing for the queen herself!” He stuttered, a small bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.
Oh yeah, this guy was new. The other jester was executed for making an insult about her late mother, only a month after she died. Too soon, man.
Being queen at 15 was exhausting. Her schedule was packed with some dumb crap, like going to those poor towns, negotiating with the rival kingdom, all that bull. She was tired, there was no doubting that. But, she had spaced out, before realizing there was a man before her trying to make her laugh.
“Finally, you’re listening. Is something bothering you, My dear?”
“...My dear!?” She was astonished. She had brought this guy in to entertain her, and he was flirting with her!? The nerve!
“R-relax! It was a joke! Are you fond of anything at all?”
“Not you, or any of the men of this kingdom!”
The jester smiled.
Uh oh.
“Well, geez! With how you’re acting, I’m starting to wonder if you’re fond of the women of this kingdo-”
“Enough!” Queenie shouted. “Nobody should, this is a conservative kingdom! I don’t understand why you would make such a joke, and I understand Jester’s privilege, but you can’t just say something like that! The implications-” She paused at the look on the jester’s face. He was terrified. Not just guilty, afraid. Normally she would relish in something like that, but he wasn’t looking at her.
He was looking at something behind her.
He raised a shaking finger, causing her to turn.
Right as the figure swung the sword.
A dull pain erupted through her head as it flew through the air, falling right next to what was once her body. Panic erupted through what was left of her senses as she realized what had happened. She gazed upon her killer, the girl’s dark face shadowed and her breathing heavy.
She was a pawn!
Queenie had been bested by a mere black pawn!
Exhaustion overtook her as her sight darkened, her struggle to breathe slowed, and her head finally went limp.
The queen was dead.
Queenie had died.
After a few minutes of darkness (that’s at least what it felt like), her vision returned, although spotty and blurred. She looked around, then down at her hands.
Wait.
She still had hands!?
SHE WAS ALIVE!?
She looked down frantically, hoping to prove her suspicions of some miraculous revival. Her curiosity stopped when she looked at her legs, or at least where they should have been.
Her lower half had been replaced with a nondescript mass, tapering to a point. It moved fluidly, like a tail of some sort.
O..kay. So, she wasn’t alive, that’s for sure.
But she looked around. This clearly wasn’t heaven, nor hell (somehow), so she wasn’t dead.
So if she wasn’t alive, but she wasn’t dead…
…what was she?
...a ghost.