Once I thought your crown

was festooned with gilded magic -

the King of Hearts reigning over

my intoxicated wine of love.

You twisted my ribbons into

your slave of nefarious needs,

satiated your thirst like water.

I’ll take your jeweled crown as

I struggle in your strangling arms.

          Long Live the Queen

I realize that you must die

by my closed fist hand -

I will utter nary a sound,

a liar at your regal mattress

no longer sacrificing all of me,

watching your crumbling statue

falling apart in bits and pieces

          Long Live the Queen

Baked a cake for you alone,

frosted it with peanut butter,

‘forgot’ about your nut allergy

and watched you die by my hand,

control followed you to the grave.

Woman am I, the mightiest of swords

          Long Live the Queen

The queen holds all of the power. The king is the most valuable piece. Trust me, I know.

I like to play chess, and seeing I'm an assassin in Yorin, I play chess a lot, both metaphorically and not-so metaphorically. I'm pretty good at the game myself. I know what I'm doing and I can easily predict what my opponent is going to do.

Tonight, I'm to assassinate the king. The queen pays well. That's not the problem. I just do not feel like doing that is the right thing. She's promised me safety out of the country. She's promised a pardon if I, by chance, get caught.

I don't think she's scared of any stories I might tell--she's spun so many lies around the people and this kingdom it's like a spider web. And we're all the flies, the pawns.

She wants the throne. And as long as I do my job, she'll get it, too. 

I'm crouching here now, under the king's window, listening to the queen moving around the room, lighting candles and then embroidering until he is asleep.

"He's a sleep," she whispers softly, leaning out the window.

The queen is a beautiful woman, with long, silken gold waves, clear, blue eyes, and a perfect, pale complexion. There is something else to her, like ice or the blade of steel, that makes me not want to make her angry.

I climb up into the window easily, and stare at the king, lying in the bed. He looks tired and worn out, his face pale and drawn. I realize he is sick. And suddenly I know, I can't do this.

"I can't do this," I tell her.

And there it is, that sharp, steely edge to her.

"You can't?" she questioned softly and gently, but I am not fooled by this facade. I can see the anger glinting dangerously in her eyes.

"I can't kill a sick man," I explain, but there's more. I just can't explain those feelings. 

"You're a filthy assassin! You're paid for this! You don't have loyalty or honor!" She's raised her voice, and the king murmurs in his sleep.

We are silent for a moment.

I pull myself up straight and stare her in the eye. "I may not have loyalties, but I do have honor."

I turn and leave the room.

###

The next morning, the king finds a scroll tied with a piece of rotting string beside his bed. Enclosed is the letter from the queen to an assassin, requesting his services in killing the king.

I placed it there.

The king does not know this, but the queen does.

But I have played my game well. The queen is executed. The king...well, I didn't kill him, so I think I failed my first assassination ever. But what does it matter? I won the game.

The queen wanted me to kill the king; the king wanted me to kill the queen. 

I made my decision.