Leaves fly and spin around me as I walk across the noble quarter, following the winding road through sparse woodlands broken up by imposing manors. It's a journey I know well, and one made quite pleasant by the morning light and distant smell of burning leaves. From time to time there's even a break in the trees where I can stop and gaze down at the rest of Niol, the city sprawling down the hill and hugging the river of the same name. When I was a young girl, I'd peer down at this same exact view and wonder about the lives of those below. I pictured idyllic homes filled with happy families, one of whom would pluck me from my distant parents and harsh schooling to live among them. An absurd fantasy--the middle-class merchants and artisans down there are the only people somehow
more
neurotic and dysfunctional than the nobility. Thankfully, I abandoned such foolish hopes soon after to embrace my political career.
"We must continue, Miss," states the
automata
behind me in a steady monotone. Two of them are serving as my 'escort' for this morning's outing; one male and one female, both dark-haired with similar facial features. I've been consistently distracted by their perfectly chiseled nude bodies, drinking in their sculpted limbs and well-defined abdomens. Had I not seen my former allies mind-wiped and transformed into beings just like them, I would presume them to be animated stone. They walk in perfect lockstep, stare blankly off into the distance, and react to no stimuli unless explicitly ordered to. I suspect their presence here today is not to protect me or prevent escape, but rather to signify my place--
automata
rarely leave the royal palace, and when they do it is explicitly for lewd purposes. The same is true of me now, I suppose. Best not to dwell on
that
particular thought.
"I'm
going
, you stupid machine." I tear my gaze away from their statue-like beauty and continue onward, my coattails gently flapping in the breeze. Lewdness has been inescapable recently, much to my frustration. Ever since my tantru--my
fight
with Helena three days ago, Her Majesty has been particularly distant. She's constantly off working or staying with Her consort and locks me alone in Her chambers while She's gone to while away the hours. I was relieved at first, enjoying a break from the royal palace's prying eyes and fingers. And then Her Majesty's wickedness began to reveal itself once more. On the first day, I was occasionally distracted by lascivious imaginings. On the second day, I spent hours on end touching myself and craving the embrace of another. On the third day, I was trembling all over and unable to string two thoughts together for want of passion. That night, when I finally broke and begged Helena for any intimacy at all, Her response was curt:
"I'll schedule you some playtime with Francine."
The promise of touch and brisk Autumn air are the only things keeping me sane now--even so, one of my hands occasionally goes rogue and drifts down between my legs. I'd have the
automata
see to me properly, but I discovered early into my transformation that they cannot satiate the curse. Francine will have to suffice. I'm almost there anyways, I just have to take this last bend and pass Tiern manor, then I'll--
My feet lock up, nearly sending me sprawling forward onto my face.
Don't, Veronica. There's nothing to see there.
I plant my feet on the intersection between the main road and a smaller path, wracked by indecision.
You'll only make yourself miserable.
I bolt toward my childhood home, winding and weaving around the rocks and roots I memorized so long ago. The thrill of returning soars within me, dampened only by the knowledge of what I'll find.
Stop right there. Turn around. Focus on the present.
My pace slows as I reach the clearing where Tiern manor sits.
Weakling.
Of course, no warm nostalgia awaits, no friendly greetings or welcoming hearths. I knew it wouldn't; knew I'd only find my inheritance of grim memories and a dilapidated home. Yet whenever I visit, I never focus on what's actually in front of me--my thoughts are trapped in what once was, dwelling on the day I faced the judgment of the throne.
Everything was too much. The Queen's magic buzzed through my veins, igniting nerves and focusing senses to a painful degree. I cringed at the booms and shrieks of the carriage wheels, at the blinding radiance of the mid-afternoon sun, and at the scraping and scratching of clothes against my skin. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to never wake up.
"It gives me no pleasure to make you see this." The Queen's voice stabbed into my ears like a pair of drills. "But I do have to make an example of you; otherwise, there'd be more assassins after me tomorrow."
The carriage door swung open and a pair of royal guards pulled me out, letting me drop to the dirt below. I didn't bother trying to stand, lacking both the strength to rise and the will to try. Instead, I squinted and realized in horror where I was: home.
Queen Helena gracefully exited behind me, then turned and spoke to a nearby crowd of stony-faced nobles. "Thank you for coming, Lords and Ladies of Arlunn, especially after such an arduous day of trials and sentences. I have brought you here to witness the absolute end of the Tiern conspiracy. In many ways, today is a victory--the just and wise tradition of Arlunn's monarchy triumphing over those who care for nothing but power." If my throat wasn't so dry and my lungs weren't so strained for breath, I would have howled with laughter. "But today is also a somber occasion. Though we vanquished the traitors, we should not revel in their demise; instead, we must recommit ourselves to preserving the unity and stability of our kingdom."
I felt the ground quake beneath my prone form as two dozen royal guards marched forward, weapons in hand. They fanned out around the perimeter of the manor and stood at attention. This was the true event--the action that would speak far louder than Her Majesty's words.
"To that end, I am officially disbanding House Tiern." She absently waved a hand, and a spectral force drew me onto my feet as if I were a marionette and it held my strings. "Save for Veronica here, who is my responsibility, all former members of the Tiern clan are hereby sentenced to permanent exile." Queen Helena nodded in the direction of the guard, and they began. I tried to close my eyes and hunch my shoulders, hoping to block out the horrific sights and sounds of glass shattering and wood splintering. But the phantasmal presence kept my eyelids open and made me watch every single second.
The raid was fast and chaotic, with guards diving through windows and breaking open doors to force their way inside. I caught glimpses of them tearing rooms apart in their search for valuables, documents, and members of my family. It didn't take long. Soon the guards re-emerged with their bounty in tow. Harrison and Dane looked resigned, Alice was fuming, and Juniper, the younglings, and the servants all shared a look of wide-eyed terror. Several other carriages navigated around the crowd to meet them, and the guard began ushering them inside. Chances were good that I'd never see any of them again--this was likely my final chance to say goodbye. But no words came to me. I didn't know which to use, or if they wanted me to speak at all. And so our last interaction was determined by my sister Alice instead, who caught my eye before she left and yelled across the clearing:
"Look, Veronica! Look around, and see where your ambition has gotten us."
"We must continue, Miss." A sex robot interrupting a memory of my former life is poetic, in a miserable sort of way. At least focusing on my dislike of the present is easier than dwelling on the past. I turn around and growl at the
automata
.
"Go fuck yourself."
"Command accepted." The two of them reach for their cocks.
"
Ignore
previous command, you gods-damned hunks of meat."
"Ignoring previous command." Their hands return to their sides. "We must continue, miss."
