The disgust on Ingrid's face, if possible, could melt Damon into a helpless mass of flesh.
"Leave."
She heard him say and her eyes subtly met the shaky figure, who scampered up, covering herself with a cloth and running off, with tears streaking down her face.
Ingrid's eyes flared back to Damon. How many more women would he traumatize?
"How did you get in! I thought I told the guards I wanted no disturbance!" His gaze slowly turned annoyed.
The Queen couldn't care less.
She bowed slightly. "Your Majesty, I came because it's a pressing matter."
He assessed her sharply then got down from his bed, grabbing his shirt to put back on.
"Yes?"
He walked past to grab his golden cup of red wine. Ingrid took a deep breath.
"I heard you will execute the Trontine Princess in two days time," She began, not turning or moving an inch. Her posture was straightened. Her doe-like eyes scanned his room languidly.
Damon turned slightly, staring at her unmoving self. "And?"
"I don't want you to."
Damon's brows shot up. "What?" He asked slowly.
"Yes," she continued, unbothered, even though she knew the atmosphere had thickened, "I don't see a reason for you to —"
"Are you questioning my authority, Ingrid?"
She now felt him behind her, very close. She could feel the heat from him radiate to her body. She swallowed and then turned, meeting his gaze.
"How can I question His Majesty's authority? I'm nothing but a mere queen," she stated flatly. The hint of sarcasm didn't go unnoticed by Damon and he immediately grabbed her arm. Harshly.
"You think you're smart right? You think your smart mouth will keep running? You're lucky I haven't asked for your head on a platter for your treason!"
"Then do it," she shrugged.
Damon's jaw dropped. Could she be more unbelievable? This was one thing that annoyed him about her; her passiveness for things as if tired of her existence.
He chuckled. "Trying to act brave?"
"Not really," she tilted her head, eyes still on him, "if you want me dead, then kill me."
He gritted his teeth, "You're my wife, Ingrid! I don't understand why you would —"
"Please, let's not change the topic," she turned away from him, walking to a chair nearby and sat, "That's not why I'm here."
If Damon was angry the last time, now he was on fire. The nerve of this woman!
She cleared her throat, continuing, "Your Majesty, if you really wanted her dead, why didn't you just kill her earlier?"
"Because I wanted to gloat to my people and show them how useless Trontine has become."
Ingrid's lips twitched. Damon sat on his bed, still sipping his wine.
"Is that why you're here? To stop me from executing my prisoner?"
He regarded her suspiciously.
She blinked. "Why don't you just spare her life? Maybe turn her into a servant or something. Why death?"
"Because I've sworn to my people to end all magic wielders," he seethed.
"But, you didn't kill all the people of Trontine, no?"
He frowned. "They are being put to good use."
"Exactly!" She clapped her hands together, "Put her to good use then. She could work here in the palace or you could give her to any of your Lords," she reasoned.
"Why are you even so interested in her right now?" His brows perked up.
"Because I was once like her," she deadpanned.
His frown deepened. "What?"
She didn't bother explaining. "All I want you to do is spare her life, Your Majesty…please. I ask for this one thing. I've never made such request as this before and I would really hope if you —"
"No."
Ingrid paused. "What?"
"I said, no. Nyssa won't be here anymore after her execution. And that's final."
Ingrid narrowed her eyes. "So you couldn't just grant me this one first wish I ask?"
"Consider it your punishment for going against your Emperor and the Kingdom."
Ingrid bit her lip, standing up. Her calm eyes never left Damon's and then she bowed.
"I have no other reason for staying, thank you for your audience, Your Majesty."
She turned briskly and was walking away when Damon halted her.
"Ingrid."
She stopped moving. "Yes?"
He walked closer to her, "I promise I won't punish you. Just tell me why you did it. I don't understand. Did I ever hurt you?"
She scoffed. That was a funny question now, wasn't it?
Turning, her eyes lifted to his, "You swore to your people that you would end all magic wielders. If you don't punish me, Your Majesty, you're taking back your oath and committing treason as well."
She smiled gracefully, giving him a final bow, then left his room.
Damon stared at the door she had just walked through with clenched fists.
What was wrong with her?!
Ingrid made her way gently to her chambers, her mind bothered. It would hurt her, a lot, if Nyssa were to be killed. She felt this affection for her, especially seeing her younger self in her.
Damon had finalized his words and she was troubled, though she didn't show it. Nyssa's death would haunt her and just the thought of that, made her more bothered.
Why was she even so concerned?
Well, better still, why shouldn't she be concerned?
Her days were already numbered, so she should as well, do something meaningful in her last days.
As she got to her room, she slowly started removing the ornaments on her body.
Her mind was still far away, swirling with thoughts, when one suddenly struck her.
Her gaze sharply lifted upwards.
One thing she knew for sure, was that Damon loved her, though it irritated her, and she could actually use that to her advantage. And Nyssa's.
She smiled softly. It was dangerous, but right now, she didn't care. She was already sick of him, the palace, the Kingdom of Askye, all together.
If they succeeded, fine. And if they don't, unfortunately, they die.
Her lips twitched. How did she turn this sardonic?
Oh, since she married the devil himself.
Her eyes met her reflection on the mirror. She seemed to be calculating something as she assessed her body from head to toes.
Then she beamed. It was time to play hide and seek.