Cierra stared at her sunken face in her mirror as she fastened the silver chain around her neck. The black pendant fell perfectly between her clavicles, the light dancing along the edges of the gem. Silver bracelets adorned her thin arms, bejeweled with the royal sapphires. Her long hair was held up by golden pins she had taken from her mother's room. Cierra raised a hand to her face, dragging it gently down her cheekbone. Her tanned skin had begun to pale, and she looked as if she hadn't slept in days. Truth was, she hadn't.

Today was the third day of executions, in a row. Yesterday, eighteen prisoners had died at her hand, and Cierra felt no remorse. Although her face and body showed signs of exhaustion, in her heart she harvested a deep craving for power and an intense excitement for more blood. Her lack of sleep was not because she led so many to their deaths, but because she hadn't led enough.

Her dress today was a dark burgundy, the corset tight around her waist. The skirt trailed behind her, intricate black details woven into the hem in a coarse pattern. Her shoulders were hidden by sheer sleeves that reached the tip of her ring finger. Dark details similar to the ones on her hem weaved around her arm. The dress was fit for the queen she was.

Cierra turned and reached into the box at the foot of her bed. From inside she lifted a crown, made of black stone, embellished with traditional navy sapphires and red rubies. It was surprisingly lightweight as Cierra placed it on her head, her outfit complete. Cierra had ordered a new crown to be made to replace the golden tiara that she had previously worn, and she was not disappointed.

The crown stayed on as Cierra tilted her head slightly. Yesterday, her prisoners had been burned alive, three at a time. The day before that, Cierra had shot every single one of them down with her arrows. Today, they were to be hanged. Much word had spread around the kingdom, and Cierra could only imagine they spoke of entertainment, of enjoyment, and of how wonderful the new queen was. Although, truthfully, Cierra did not care what they thought. Whether they liked it or not, she was their new queen, and she was rightful to her own terms.

Fastening her dagger around her waist, Queen Cierra left the room, shutting the door behind her. Immediately a team of guards took formation behind her. Cierra's lips curled into a cruel smile, so lacking of humour yet so full of it, as she reached her balcony. The red curtains that had previously separated the balcony from the hallway had been torn down, replaced by gold-trimmed black ones, that Cierra simply adored. Cierra admired the diaphanous material that fit so perfectly around her arms as the line of prisoners was let out. Today only fifteen were to be executed; the hanging platform only left room for five hangings at a time and Cierra would much prefer to explore different execution methods before she ran out of prisoners to toy with. Looking down from her elevated position, Queen Cierra addressed her audience. A smaller number of people than Cierra had expected had gathered in the square. Frowning, Cierra held out her hands, acknowledging their presence.

"People of Escozor, my people, welcome. Today, we gather here to watch the crown bring down justice on those who have wronged our country. Today, we watch the criminals of our territory greet their demise. Today, you are here to see a show," Cierra chuckled, although her display of amusement was not echoed in the crowd, "And a show I will put on!"

Cierra turned to sit down, then hesitated. She spun in the direction of her audience, her face momentarily clouded with dark thoughts. "May this serve as example of what happens when you defy my title."

Absolute silence rippled throughout the entire execution square. As Cierra took her seat, she saw that the crowd had quickly become even smaller. Clenching her jaw, Cierra folded her hands in front of her. Her fingers knotted into fists. Let them leave. She didn't need their validation for anything. This country needed restoring after its failed attempt at prosperity, and Cierra knew no one but her would bring it. Cierra's eyes looked like golden storms as she watched Gilberto randomly select the first five prisoners. As they took their place, the ropes loose around their necks, her lips twitched into a scathing smile. Let justice take what's his.

The prisoners flailed in anguish as the platform opened up, leaving them hanging by just the ropes. All five had gripped the cord around their neck with extreme determination, as if they could actually escape death as it enveloped them. Queen Cierra watched with a bored expression, although a hint of her guilty smile remained etched on her face. Although she portrayed no emotion outwardly, Cierra was calmed and relieved as she looked on at the despairing prisoners. They all feared death and justice. Most importantly, they all feared her and the wrath she brought upon them.

Cierra almost didn't notice the next line of prisoners being rounded onto the platform, their hands cuffed in front of them. Four of the five prisoners had thinly veiled expressions, but Cierra saw the fear right through their facade. The fifth prisoner, however, remained a mask of calm. Irritated, Cierra watched him closely. As hard as she tried, she couldn't see any hidden emotion behind the calm.

"Wait!" Cierra called down at her guards. Confused, they looked up at her, but refrained from cutting the cuffs on the prisoners.

Hurriedly, Cierra pulled up the hem of her dress, waving her hand at Gilberto as he tried to help her. She disappeared into the hallway behind the black curtains, emerging in the square through a side door after a few moments. Her breathing was heavy— the stairs down were narrow and steep— but Cierra continued to march towards the quiet prisoner. She'd let go of her skirt, the hem dragging along ground and fraying along the edges. Controlling her breathing, she stood in front of the prisoner. Even as she reached for him, he stayed still and unmoving. Cierra's eyes held a fiery look that bordered on dangerous as she looked him up and down.

Everything had fallen into an echoing silence. If one of the golden pins slipped out of Cierra's elaborately done hair, the sound would be piercing. The entire square seemed to take a breath as Cierra opened her mouth, poised to speak. The prisoner beat her to it, a smug look creeping over his features.

"You do not scare me."

Cierra's hands turned to fists as she bunched up her skirt. Her expression hid nothing; her obvious anger and irritation was exposed as she said, in almost a whisper, "Your Majesty. I am your queen, and you will address me as such."

The rugged prisoner said nothing, a knowing smile still tugging at his lips.

In a movement no one saw coming, Queen Cierra raised her hand and slapped the prisoner across the face. Her hand hurt from the unexpected and harsh action, though Cierra made no indication of it.

"It's Your Majesty!"

The prisoner was silent as a pink-red blotch appeared on his left cheek. His face remained impassive, although any hints of amusement had disappeared. His lip twitched in irritation. Cierra felt anger boiling in her chest, and in a swift course of actions she had taken her dagger and cut the ropes tied around his hands.

Surprised, the prisoner looked up at his queen. His brown eyes were hopeful, as if he thought she would let him go unharmed. Suddenly, his face turned suspicious as he looked at her expression. Her eyes were furious as she said, "Are you not afraid of death? La muerte? It stares you right in the face."

Stunned, the prisoner hesitated, then looked at the queen, "You stare me right in the face, and afraid of you is something I am not," snickering, the prisoner added, "Your Majesty."

Cierra stepped back as if she was going to leave him then lunged forward, sliding her dagger into his stomach. Her hand snaked around to his back as she pushed the weapon in further.

"I'll kill you myself. Death and I are one and the same, are we not?" Cierra snarled, twisting the knife. The prisoner gagged, blood splattering across Cierra's dress. Disgusted, she pulled the dagger out as he collapsed to the floor, his hands wrapped around his bloody torso. He fell at Queen Cierra's feet in a painful bow. That was all Cierra could see as she wiped her hands on her blood-soaked dress. The burgundy colour hid the mess of blood. She smiled, content. The title of Queen was really serving her well. This country would be rid of criminals before the Asunción de María.

Cierra looked up, sweeping a few strands of hair out of her face. The crowd— or rather, what was left of it— was staring in silence at Cierra with slight disbelief and plenty of disdain.

"He disobeyed his queen, and that is the worst crime of them all."

The mob of people was still focused on Cierra, but fear had played deeply into their features. Cierra's breath caught. They hadn't heard her conversation with the prisoner, the reasons for which she took his life. Cierra was determined to say something that would replace the fear on their faces with understanding and perhaps admiration.

As she opened her mouth, she stopped. Cierra realised this was what she wanted. After all, hadn't she killed the prisoner after he told her he didn't fear her? Turning to her people, she raised her hands, stained with blood, and smiled. She extended her bloody hands to her audience.

"To a new era. To a new dawn. To a new queen."

Cierra gathered her skirts and moved into the mob. The crowd parted, scrambling into messy bows. Shaking her head, Cierra spoke once more.

"It is not your servitude I want," she pulled a couple people to their feet, others following suit, "I want your loyalty and faith. I want your obedience. Is that too much to ask?"

Cierra pulled out a small girl, who was hiding beneath her mother's skirts. Her mother's face contorted into one of fear before she composed herself. Her eyes followed her daughter intently as Cierra kneeled and faced the girl eye-to-eye.

"Do you know who your queen is?"

The girl shivered. She spoke, in a small voice, "You are the queen," the girl hesitated, then looked up at Cierra through her long lashes. Cierra was smiling, albeit coldly.

The girl looked at her mother, who smiled somewhat encouragingly at her, beckoning her back to her side. The little child looked back at Cierra innocently. The smile on Cierra's face turned quickly into a disgusted sneer when the girl spoke again, in barely a whisper.

"Although I wish you weren't. You are frightening. More so than Queen Berezi."

Cierra snarled, pushing the girl away, "Wrong answer."

She stood up, walking back to the open space where nine prisoners still faced the hanging platform. Pushing people aside, Cierra climbed rather ungracefully onto the platform, looking at the crowd.

"Unless you all wish to end up in the hoyos del infierno, you had better listen carefully. From this day forwards, there is but a single queen. Me. Any mention of Queen Berezi," Cierra spat out, "will land you in this very square."

Queen Cierra glared at the gathered crowd. A few people at the front tentatively sunk into bows. Soon the whole square was on its knees. She felt the guilty stares of prisoners awaiting death behind her sink into her back. She felt the fear in the gazes of her people. She felt it envelop her heart and her mind, breathing thoughts of power into her conscience.

For what felt like the millionth time that day, Cierra smiled cruelly.

♕♛♕

The photo in the beginning of the chapter is what I imagined Cierra to look like, except WAYYY MORE TAN. And with her scar. So yeah, feel free to imagine her how you want, this is just closest to my description.

Also, isn't Adelaide Kane gorgeous??

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Tell me what you thought of the chapter and what you think of Cierra! I really want to know :)

Love, Tori ❤️