Weekly Expression #2 MC
 

 

 

Wrongful Revenge

By M.J. Coleman

“Queen Eleanor.”

                I was ripped out of my train of thought at the Duke’s pronunciation of my name. Oh, how I hated the way he pronounced my name. He put an emphasis on the “a” in Eleanor where it had no place being.

                I must have still looked in a daze, because the Duke said my name again in that horrid pronunciation of his. I looked at him and he made a small gesture at the man who was kneeled a few feet before my throne. I suddenly gave a start and the Duke relaxed a little as I realized I was supposed to knight the young man.

                But I didn’t want to. I hated this man. Oh, how I longed for the day when death would finally look him in the eyes and swallow him whole.

                I stood gracefully despite my sudden fury and pulled the sword from the sheath the Duke was offering me. I stood 2 inches from the man as he bowed his head, awaiting his final step before officially becoming a knight.

                I raised the sword and noticed small beads of perspiration forming on the man’s neck. He was scared.

                Good.

                I held the sword in midair for a moment, trying with all my might to resist the powerful urge to swing it clean through the man’s perspiring neck. I finally lowered it gently on his left shoulder, then did the same to the right. I knew I was supposed to speak some kind of official words as I knighted him, but my mouth was as dry as cotton and my tongue would not move to form the words.

                Luckily, the Duke covered for me. “In the name of the kingdom and throne of Duermuth, you are now Sir Jonathan, Noble Knight.”

                With the sword still resting on his right shoulder, the man looked up at me and said, “Thank you, my Queen.”

                In one sudden motion and with a cry of outrage, I slung the sword at his neck, completely severing his head from his body. The entire room cried out in horror as the Duke grabbed hold of my shoulders.

                “What did you do?!?” he shrieked. “Why did you do that?!?”

                “Because,” I snapped, “he killed my husband, your King.”

                “He didn’t kill him!”

                I looked at the Duke in confusion. “What?”

                He gave me an evil smile that sent shivers down my spine. He came close to me and whispered in my ear, “I did. And now you’re going to prison for killing the wrong man.”