The Queen's Revenge

Synopsis

For years, I ruled the inner court with an iron fist, earning the moniker "The Royal Abortionist." Any child I did not want simply disappeared. Any court lady who displeased me was ruined. Any wine not to my taste was laced with belladonna and sent to the King himself. I was not mad. It all stemmed from that single, fateful afternoon. I drifted through the palace gardens in a gown of blush silk, swept past a flustered young consort, and offered a teasing smile to Edward Sterling. But Edward's face went still. His eyes caught on the faint lines beginning to etch the corners of mine, and he sighed. "My Queen, such a delicate hue belongs to youth. What number of years do you now claim?" he said. Before public humiliation could even kindle into rage, a cold wave of disbelief washed over me. For it was he who told me, at sixteen, that I looked most divine in pink silk.