Queen Ravena's Arc

Chapter 1 of 2

Queen Ravena had ruled HallowMere alone since she was fourteen. Her parents died that year, and the crown fell to a frightened girl in a black gown. Now she was nearly twenty-seven. She sat on her throne in the gothic hall of her castle, one hand stroking the glossy crow perched beside her. The bird pressed its head into her palm. It was the only warm thing in the room. She wanted a husband who fit her strange kingdom, and she wanted, for once, to not sit alone. A large man pushed to the front of the crowded hall. His voice filled the stone chamber. "The queen is nearly twenty-seven and has no heir. She has no husband. This kingdom needs a future. If she cannot give us one, she has no right to that throne." The hall went silent. Ravena felt every eye turn to her. The crow ruffled its feathers and let out a sharp cry. Morgana stepped from her place near the wall. She had served Ravena since they were both small girls, and she was the only friend the queen had ever kept. Her orange-striped stockings flashed under her torn skirt as she moved. "You dare speak to your queen this way?" she snapped, her French accent sharpening each word. "You forget yourself, monsieur." "I speak for the people," the man said. He did not look away from the throne. Ravena raised her hand. Morgana fell quiet, but her jaw stayed tight. The queen studied the man. He was rude, but he was not wrong. Fear had kept her alone. She had buried herself in duty because love felt like a door that might slam shut again, the way her parents had. Edgar Grimshaw, her head butler, glided forward from the shadows near the great doors. Skulls gleamed on his black coat. Pumpkins were stitched along his collar. He had run the castle household longer than Ravena had worn the crown. He bowed low, and his voice came slow and cold, like wind through an empty crypt. "My queen," he said. "A throne needs two chairs, or it grows very cold. Perhaps the hour has come to fill the second." Ravena looked at him, then at Morgana, then at the crow at her side. For thirteen years she had answered fear with silence. She was tired of it. She stood. Her feathered cloak spread behind her. "Enough," she said. Her voice rang clear through the hall. "You are right. This kingdom will have a future. I will find a husband, one worthy of HallowMere." She lifted her chin. "Send word to every land. The Queen of HallowMere seeks a match. Let them come." The crowd stirred, some pleased, some uneasy. Edgar bowed again. Morgana's eyes went wide. "Ma reine," Morgana whispered. "You have just opened your gates to the whole world." Ravena sat back down. She had ended one silence and started something she could not stop.