Thread: Brave New World (Razgriz x darkangel76)

Helena's breath caught in her throat as she watched Anselm walk away, her blue eyes drifting toward his hand as he tightly held onto the handkerchief she'd given him. She hadn't realized just how quickly her heart had begun to race until she slowly began to exhale, trying her best to remain that collected picture of calm, that regal queen who stood by his side. Her thoughts were beginning to run wild inside her mind, creating a murky haze as she glanced about the empty room as her king left her sight and walked off to talk to the one man she despised most. For a moment, her fists clenched at her sides and she wondered if her king would truly have what it took to do what she knew needed to be done. Hanging her head, Helena's blonde locks fell in front of her face, hiding her angelic features as she lightly padded across the empty room. Her footsteps echoed as she made her way to another door, one leading to the meditation room. She needed time to herself as she waited. She needed to 'pray'. Pray. The thought was like acid pouring over flesh, searing it, marring it, disfiguring it forever. Helena hadn't truly prayed in years, not when whatever it was that might be decided to turn away and bring nothing but blackness upon she and her father. No. She wouldn't believe in anything until Charles was dead, his body made an example of for all to see while she and her beloved king reigned over all! Then everyone would see what it took to lead, where true power came from. It had nothing to do with faith or revolution. It had everything to do with knowing how persevere no matter what life threw at you, how to pick yourself up and seize opportunity at every corner. Helena reached the far door, her thoughts dark as she wondered about Anselm and Charles Vincent...the conversation they must be having. She could only hope that somehow, in the end, her father would be avenged. The next several days, Helena spent in solitude. Anselm chose not to speak much on his conversation with Charles, something she understood but also found to shake her confidence on the fate of the wretched man who'd destroyed her life and killed her father. The man was worthless, selfish and most definitely playing the king for a fool. It bothered her to know that no one could see this save herself. But there was little she could do to convince anyone. At least, not yet. Not yet. Helena remembered all too well how Charles' eyes lit up the moment she'd scavenged that weapon, how he'd been all too eager to get the thing to Garrett Watson so he could look it over, repair it, get the thing fully functional once again. Her tummy in knots, she knew something was brewing, something in the undercurrent. She didn't like it. But still, there was nothing she could do. Not yet...not yet. Standing behind Anselm as he readied himself for his speech to the public, Helena's hands gripped the sheer fabric of her gown. She felt skittish, paranoid. Her blue eyes scoured the crowd as she kept the face of that calm and regal queen, but on the inside, she was unraveling like a ball of yarn. She still didn't know how things went between her king and Charles and now they were facing the people, ready to speak of the brewing rumors that she'd heard whispered in the corridors as she'd walked them in her silence. Helena knew she had to bide her time, be patient. She had plenty of that. Life had taught her patience over the years as it threw her horror after horror, the worst being that of Charles Vincent! Licking her lips, she looked at her Anselm as he began to address the crowd, easing their minds about the Resistance Movement. 'So this is what it has come to?' Helena thought to herself. She wanted to scream, to shout, to find Charles herself and plunge a dagger deep into his heart for duping the man she loved and admired. How he could sway this man, this strong man capable of so much, she had no idea! It angered her! Just then, when Helena's thoughts turned the darkest, all hell broke loose. She heard a loud crack and suddenly people began to rush toward Anselm as he crumpled to the ground. Her blue eyes went wide as her mouth dropped open in a loud shriek. Quickly, she rushed to his side, ignoring the chaos about her and only wanting to be beside her husband. Anselm! Anselm! Helena cried, her eyes welling with tears. She reached for his hand with hers, her other touching his shoulder as she looked to one of the medics. Is he all right? she asked. What happened? What's going on? But as the words poured from Helena's mouth, she knew exactly what had happened. It was the Resistance Movement, the revolution. The whispers weren't rumors and she'd known it all along. She'd lived it. Now, more than ever, she wanted Charles Vincent to pay.