Work Text:
How does it feel, when one is no longer the only queen in one’s castle, you ask?
When that tireless pawn reached the end of the board and ascended to queenhood, I was surprised, appalled even. The little usurper, I thought, the wretched commoner thinks she can just slip into robes of silk, velvet and gold, and call herself a queen, as though she had not been eating beans and gruel for her whole mundane existence?
Jealousy is a bitter poison. Too long I seethed when I watched her dash across the field, taking pawn after pawn, but soon I saw her smile, I saw the fervour with which she fell our foes, and I heard her cruel laugh.
I understood then that queenhood is not the silver spoon with which one is raised, for the king ate from it too and look at what good it did him — queenhood is a thirst for blood. When we finally closed ranks around the enemy’s trembling king, she was not a rival but a comrade to me.
I will never again miss the days when I was the only queen in the castle, for I lost a servant but won a sister.
Ptelea Sat 03 Feb 2024 08:35PM UTC
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