It was a beautiful castle. At least, it was when I lived in it. Now it’s slowly falling apart. The stones that are holding it together are beginning to crumble and there were cobwebs everywhere from decades of being unmaintained. I once ruled the castle as its queen, but now I wander the abandoned halls as its ghost.
I should have seen it coming. You’d think that someone of my stature would know when my subjects would plan a coup to overthrow me and take the throne for themselves. I suppose I was too blind to see it. That’s what I get for placing too much trust in the people around me, thinking that they will never betray me. Some queen I turned out to be.
“Dinner is served, Majesty,” the butler said, bowing deeply in respect to my status as queen. “Thank you, Garvis, I shall be there shortly,” I said with a curt nod, signalling that he is dismissed for the night. Garvis bowed once again before taking his leave, most likely heading to the servant’s quarters for a light meal and a nightcap. I rose from my throne and made my way to the dining hall where a large feast awaits me. Granted, I don’t eat as much as Henry VIII, but my cook still outdoes himself every single time. A manservant came rushing forward, pulling out the chair at the end of the table as I approached. Giving him a small smile in thanks, I sat down and placed the napkin on my lap before I began to dine.
I was about halfway through my meal when I felt a sense of uneasiness come over me. Before I could call out for help, I slumped over in my chair with half of my face in the plate in front of me. I died that night and my remains were put into a wooden chest and tied up with heavy chains. The chest was then brought into the woods near the castle and thrown into the large pond.
Days after they had disposed of me, everyone at the castle started to experience strange happenings. Some thought that they saw doors closing on their own and others thought that I had returned from the dead to seek revenge on those that had dared to assassinate the queen. Pretty soon, all of them were driven mad and they all fled the castle, not willing to stay here any longer than they had to. I appeared from one of the walls as the last of the staff left, a satisfied smirk on my spectral face. I may be a ghost, but they should know better than to mess with the queen.
Tiffany’s Writing Desk 