POV: You're the Queen who had killed the King and the Merchant found out
You looked down towards the boy that stood in front of you, his eyes showing great fear as he stood there trembling. You smoked, adjusting your dress and crown before looking back towards the mere merchant.
“Have… Have you given me a Judas kiss?” He asked, voice shaky as if to hold back tears.
You merely stood there, smiling. “Did you really believe the mere chef could assassinate the King? Just like that? No peering eyes? Nor anyone finding out on his plan?” You asked, tilting your head slightly. The merchant only stood there, still in pure shock of the event.
You sighed, taking a step closer to the young boy, only causing him to flinch. “Despite how naive you seem, I expected you to find out much easier. Such a shame it had to be like this.”
The boy’s look of fear slowly transformed into something of confusion. “...What do you expect to do now? If you kill me, surely the kingdom would figure out you were the culprit.” He pointed out, clenching onto his carrier bag as if his life depended on it. You laughed, shaking your head. “Ah, you see I’ve had a knack for acting. If I just force out some tears, they’ll believe anything I say!” You explained happily.
Looking down into your chest, your small, yet sharp, blade that hid inside of your cleavage. Fliping it so the covering fell to the floor. The boy’s eyes widened, taking another step back in fear. “You… You wouldn’t... Not here...” He practically whispered out in a hoarse voice.
“Oh, love... I would. And I will.” You stated, taking another step forward. There wasn’t any other sound other than your steps, the ticking of the clock, and each other’s breathing. The merchant in front of you was going to die at the ripe age of twenty. By the Queen herself of all people. Some might call it the way they would hope to die, whilst others might think otherwise.
The merchant’s eyes widened at each step, “All of our dances… all the walks we had in the garden… was all of that just a facade? All for what?” He asked, flinching as he felt his back hit against the cold marble wall.
You thought for a moment, taping the blade against your chin as you thought. “Partially for fun, partially for your resources. You see, if it weren’t for all the herbs you sold, I probably wouldn’t have found the perfect poison for Edric!” You were, of course, referring to the Cicuta maculata you had been shown all those weeks ago. Those of which you slipped into your husband’s soup just before his death.
“So! Any last words? Any regrets? Any sorrows you’d wish to spill out?” You asked, towing over the brunet whose back was firmly against the wall. Trapping between the walls corner and the Queen’s right arm.
The merchant only stammered, unable to figure out what to say or how to say what his mind was telling him. It was running as if it were being chanced, unable to think clearly.
You could also sigh, an expression of pity plastered onto your face. “I supposed this is it then. Such a shame. Let’s hope the lord allows your mercy in the afterlife hm?” You asked, before harshly stabbing into the merchant’s side, causing him to yelp. The tears that he’d been holding back running down his face. His legs suddenly gave out on the poor boy, collapsing onto the harsh cold floor. Causing you to roll your eyes, crouching down as you stabbed into his side once more, causing him to yell cry out in pain once more.
Humming softly as you looked at the merchant, watching as the light slowly escaped his eyes. “I never did like brunet’s such as you, though I’ll admit you have a certain charm. Let’s hope a sinner like me may see you up in the heavens.” You said, pulling out a ribbon from your wrist you had tied on yourself, using it to put your hair in an elegant bun. “Such a shame someone like you had to be brought into a mess such as this.”
You stabbed the merchant’s stomach a few more times. The yelps began to soften, to mere whimpers. You place down the blade, placing two fingers on his neck. Humming constantly. Wiping the blood onto the sleeve of his shirt, you stood up. Leaving him in his state as you went to pick up the blade covering of your blade, placing it on and putting it back inside of your dress and chest, before running off with a frantic expression out of the ballroom. Tears in your eyes.
They’d have a hell of a time trying to figure out the culprit for this one.
But you’d get away scoot free from it anyway.
And that’s all that mattered.
