The Viper in the Emerald Gown

The Viper in the Emerald Gown

“So, you were sent to kill me, right?” he asked, moments after his hand caught her waist and the tips of his fingers met hers. 

“Is it that obvious?” She blinked at him with big brown eyes, delicately swaying to the music. Her golden hair fell over bare shoulders as the prince spun her with an outstretched arm. The satin of her dark green dress swirled and slithered around the pristine ballroom floors, snake-like. And above, the chandelier put the whole room into a dazzling haze. 

“Mm, deliciously so,” he whispered, suddenly pulling her close as the music reached crescendo. His soft moans made her skin feel electric. She twisted away from his face to twirl backwards into a dip, posing there for a moment, showing off. The jealous mob of fair ladies glittered around her, their skirts skimming the centre of the ballroom which she and the prince consumed. Then she pulled herself back up into his arms and chuckled.

“Someone must be full of themselves.”

His expression changed then; his nostrils flared. 

“Is it so preposterous for me to think that someone could want the one eligible heir to the throne dead?” He raised his eyebrows. But the woman took his hand and continued to step in line with the rhythm of the quartet.

“No,” she said. “But I figured your enemies don't usually take the form of beautiful women.”

“Now look who’s full of themselves,” the prince shot back, resuming his previous charming exterior. 

The mysterious woman rolled her eyes and plastered on a smile. “I am just honoured to have you on my dance card.”

The prince spun her around again, noting the many guards stationed by the various passageways from the large hall. Their silver armour so shiny, that every filigree detail glinted like the edge of an extravagant blade. They were watching him carefully, but he was unsure of how to warn them of his danger without tipping off this femme fatale. 

“Funny; how your name was on mine, though I haven’t met you once. It’s almost as if someone changed the cards to have me here, in this moment, with you; spinning under this enchanting chandelier.”

The woman scoffed. “And to you, that automatically concludes murder? Prithee, your highness, you mustn’t make me laugh during such a formal affair.” 

“Your hairstyle isn’t local; ladies here tend to pin it up for a dance. Your shoes, while magnificently glitzy, are flat and sturdy; ideal for running…”

“Or dancing,” she interjected.

He spoke through her. “And your eyes have pierced through every guard in this place, when usually, nobody offers them a second glance.”

She looked around at the men in silver posted at every opening. They all had eyes on the heir, their most valuable asset. 

“You also haven’t been smothering me with compliments or swooning at my gaze, despite the fact that every girl in here would run you down just to have one moment with me.” His hand slid down her waist and pulled her hip in towards him. She watched him steadily, using his firm shoulder to ground herself.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Am I? I could make a scene right now.”

“Well, why don’t you then?” She snaps.

“What? Scream and have you thrust your dagger into my gut before the last chime of air could leave my lungs? Then I would count on you making a swift getaway in one of the many escape routes you no doubt have planned.” Her fingers slipped out of his and she twirled before landing right back in his grasp. His strong hands held her small body roughly and she couldn’t help feel as though he might violently squeeze her to death. She paused.

“He’s a clever boy.”

“I’m not a boy.” His frown reappeared. She licked her lips, taunting him. 

“You’ll be a boy until you take your father’s throne. And then you’ll be a monster like him.”

“Not a fan of my father?” He asked, his tone nonchalant. 

“I’m not here to chitchat.”

“But you’re not even from here, you don’t even know him.” The prince was growing tired of her game. 

“I know he sold slaves to the north before the end of the war. Innocent people, rounded up and sent away to work until there was nothing left of them but frozen bone.”

The prince looked away. He could taste bile in his throat. 

“That’s where you’re from. Isn’t it?” 

“My mother was a slave there. I would have been too if she hadn’t died smuggling me out.”

His grip on her hand tightened as he spun her around the room. Her dress flittered around him, encapsulating him in darkness. 

“That was the war; hard times. The kingdom was poor, the people were starving. He wouldn’t—“

The fierce blonde cut him off.

“So, what is in the past doesn’t matter? What’s done is done, I suppose?”

“No, of course not. But he’s a good king now. He’s good to his people.”

The prince looked up at his father who was in a drunkenly slumber atop his throne at the end of the room. Despite dawning a purple cloak and a velvet and gold crown, the old man looked as regal as a court jester. A wave of shame washed over the princes insides, churning with humility. 

The woman drew her lips close to his ear. “And will you?”

“What?” The prince asked, intrigued.

“Be good to your people? The king is getting older. Soon enough it will be you who gets to choose who sits upon their ivory coaches and who rots in the ratways.” 

He kept her close and moved his lips to the side of her head. Her gold hair was soft and smelt of sweet pears. 

“I’ll be a fair king. That is, if you don’t kill me first.” He pulled away with a wink. “Don’t think I forgot. I can practically see you reaching for that dagger strapped to your thigh under your dress. Or is it on the back of your waistband? Just behind the corset boning, enough protection from the blade on delicate milky skin…”

“Would you like to see it?” She said with a biting tone. Her eyes flickered up at him with mischief and she curled her scarlet lips into a smirk.

“Maybe we should take it somewhere more private. I’d hate to make a scene. And this white marble, shan’t it not be a pain to scrub the blood from?” The prince teased. The woman grinned. 

“I doubt your guards would let us get that far.”

The music picked up and he spun her close to him and drew her body in and out like tides crashing onto the shore.

“Well, they let you get this close to me now, didn’t they?” he said.

“I’m sure they’re used to leading lovely young maidens your way,” she responded quickly

“Aye, except usually they aren’t so bloodthirsty.”

“Keep your voice down.” She pursed her lips.

“Look who’s afraid now.” His narrowed eyes looked down at her, glossy blue, like liquid sapphires. 

“I’m not afraid. But if you alert anyone, I’ll strike. And I’d like to have only one life on my conscious tonight.” 

“Tonight? So this is a hobby of yours.”

“More of a profession.”

“Right. Nothing personal, just business.” 

“Everything is business,” she said. 

“I bet you didn’t think that way when my father sold your poor mother to the mines.” She dug her nails into his shoulder and the dancing came to a halt. Time seemed to pause between them while the rest of the couples spun around them.

“Don’t you dare—“ She lowered her voice. “Don’t you dare speak about my mother. She was a good woman. She didn’t deserve what happened to her.” 

“Shame the apple fell so far.”

“I hope I can say the same about you and your father.” She glared at him.

The prince began to feel desperate. “He isn’t so bad if you got to know him. Please, dear, it doesn’t have to be like this.” His voice changed as the song ended and a new step began. The dancing was quicker now; if the young woman wanted to run or attack, this would be her best chance. The bustling crowds would make her a difficult target to catch, and getting a clear shot would be impossible without risking the guests safety. 

“You don’t have to do this. I can give you a job, in the kitchens; a paid job! Please, I’ve seen to it that my father deals in no more undisclosed matters, everything is public to the council!”

She bit her lip. He did seem genuine. She wondered if everything she had been taught about the royals had been correct. But she shoved the thought aside and said plainly,

“What’s done is done. There is nothing I can do to stop what is already in motion. But truly, your highness, I do hope you make a better king than he.”

The prince stood with his arms limp by his side.

“If you don’t see to my demise, that is,” he said weakly.

She drew in sharply, stepping towards him in a final bow, then rising with her lips just inches from his, quivering. He held his breath waiting for the final blow. She whispered,

“You’re not my target, your majesty.”

Almost on cue, a loud clambering made way from the end of the room. The king tumbled from his chair face first like Humpty Dumpty; 

His chalice slipped from shaky knobbed fingers, spilling tainted wine on the Persian rugs. His foaming mouth leaked poisoned saliva down his most dashing robe. The audience gasped. The king was dead.

The prince turned back to face the beautiful maiden, but she had slipped out among the chaos, gone. The assassin fled from the castle like a phantom in the daylight, and in her place was nothing but a singular shimmering slipper. The prince lifted it and held it in his palm. He wanted to run after her. He wanted to find her. But he was to be king now, and kings didn’t have time to chase down murderous maidens. 

“Find her!” he demanded, “that viper in the emerald gown.” They knew the one. The beauty who held everyone’s eyes all night long; the lucky lady dancing with their most eligible prince.  

Half the guards charged through the french doors into the gardens, and the others up the grand stairway to the foyer, where everyone entered. Guests went into a frenzy, forcing guards to escort them into one of the dining halls. 

“Execute her for treason on sight.” 

The new king ordered his father’s men to pass the message on, and dropped the sparkling shoe onto his most valiant knight’s widespread palm, instructing him to look for its match.

“It’s just business,” the prince muttered before marching over to his father’s corpse, and snatching up the royal crown. He dusted it off, admired it, then nestled it firmly atop his mighty head.