Read Book 1: The Crown Prince (The Kid Emperor of Occultoria) Page 20
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The Queen of Purgatorio sat on her daisy-shaped throne in her castle and peered into her Magic Glass Wall. Its reflection showed an image of a young boy in imperial clothing, a pudgy boy dressed in a soldier’s red uniform that was obviously too big for him, and a fat orange cat - all wandering around her Haunted Forest.
So the little twerp was coming. She knew it. The Green Gremlins she had sent to the Natural World to warn the boy to stay away hadn’t worked. She had even sent him a threatening message written in the sky, but he had not heeded it. She was glad she had sealed the entrance to Demonia shut, even for only a few hours. She didn’t want the boy to raise troops from there to help conquer her region.
But, no matter. The Queen would take care of him. She did not want to forfeit her newfound independence.
She had been the first to declare independence ever since that annoying Empress Lilith mysteriously disappeared. It did puzzle her that the Empress had sent her a note urging her to take advantage of the lack of a strong central leader and rebel, but the Queen had been happy to oblige.
The Queen liked her independence. She hated answering and bowing down to anyone, least of all a scrawny little runt with big floppy ears like the Crown Prince.
She tolerated the Empress Lilith because the Empress was female, but the fact that this heir apparent was male really irritated her. She hated men with a passion and this was why.
Back when she was alive, Queen Arbora was known as Prudence Winthrop.
And Prudence Winthrop had died a horrible death.
Born in Salem, Massachusetts in 1667, she was accused of being a witch after she stared at a handsome young farmer for too long. She hadn’t really intended to stare at him. She found him attractive and, being rather forward for the times, was merely trying to catch his attention.
Unfortunately for her, the farmer was much too dense to realize it. He thought she was giving him the evil eye. After a bad harvest, he put two and two together and accused her of witchcraft.
Prudence was put on trial, found guilty by her peers and sentenced to death by burning. She had begged her brothers and her father to speak out on her behalf, but they were scared of being associated with a woman accused of witchcraft, so they stayed silent.
Just as she was about to be burned to a crisp, she called out to God for help. If He would spare her in His infinite mercy, she would be grateful and even evangelize the natives on His behalf.
She had not been spared. The fire engulfed her body, hungrily and greedily licking it up, until every last cell had been devoured. The smell of burning flesh permeated the air, making everyone in a one-mile radius gag.
Angry and spiteful, she refused to enter the door to Heaven when it appeared for her.
She was only 18. She had so much life to live and it was all taken away from her by a misunderstanding.
Who was to blame? For one, she blamed God. God had made her a forward girl and in 1600’s New England, a forward girl was not a hot commodity.
But more so, she blamed men. To her, they were all idiots. It was a man who had accused her of witchcraft. It was a group of men in the jury who had found her guilty. It was a man who had tied her hands and feet so snugly against the stake where she had been burned to death. It was her father and brothers who refused to speak out on her behalf.
Yes, it was men that caused her downfall. She would spend an eternity hating them. That was why she refused to enter the door to Heaven.
Her spirit stayed on Earth to take her revenge on men. They had robbed her of her precious life. And they would pay dearly for that mistake.
Since her spirit was still lingering, she arrived in Purgatorio. There, she overthrew King Serpent the Clueless, declared herself Queen and rallied the whole province to her side. Of course, the one thorn in her side was that she had to swear fealty to the Emperor of the Occultorian Empire at that time, but it had been a small price to pay to have a province to rule over.
But still, over the centuries, her anger toward men still consumed her inside. Over time, it even took on a physical expression. She was no longer the blond slim young lady with bright blue eyes. Instead, her anger and hatred were causing her to transform into something ugly and sinister.
Because she had been to tied to a black cherry tree when she was burned at the stake, it was the last thing she saw. It was the last thing her spirit clung to as it lingered on Earth.
And so, she degenerated into a black cherry tree herself, developing wide-reaching roots and a long tongue. She now had scaly brown skin, wide glaring eyes and loose root-like hair.
Her anger and hatred made her strong and powerful physically, but she had paid the price in beauty - both on the outside and the inside. She was ugly on both the outside and the inside. The anger and hatred controlled her. She became their slave.
She began to get used to this kind of anger toward men. And that was why she was particularly looking forward to Max’s visit.
There was no way that she was going to submit to a young man’s rule.
She had set a trap for him.
She was determined that the young prince would not leave Purgatorio alive.
“Count Wai Da!” she barked out.
A short Asian man with thick glasses wearing the dark brown robe of a count poked his head shyly into the Grand Hall.
The Queen shouted, “Get in here!”
The count scrambled into the hall, tripping over his feet on the way.
He fell down in front of the Queen and then prostrated before her. “My lady.”
The Queen glared at him. “The Crown Prince is here. We’ve already discussed this. You know what to do.”