THE QUEEN RISES

throughout. Not in the form of shadow, or footstep, or sound - bu

use itself. On him. The way he lurked in my peripheral vision, the way I felt his gaze on me even when it was nowhe

ecisely clipped hedges, reflecting off the water basins that gleamed like dark glass. I saw the paths twist in geometrica

behind me, and I felt him draw closer, though I did

d evenely. My voice was flat and level; I refused to let him see the tr

as he continued, "Learning is... Admirable. People usually panic. Or struggle. But you...". His

otion from me – be it fear, or frustration, or rage. He had exploited them many times

a soft disturbance in the air. "Control isn't enough though. It will never be enough to survive. You need...

rfectly blank but his eyes were piercing, impossibly so. There was no malice or frustration to be

ster and interpret. He would savor it. I stood tall, my face devoid of ex

ou are... An anomaly. Not in the chaotic way that others are; the unpredictable element, the unpredictable fact

my carefully constructed barriers. Not by force or threat, but by simply existing beside me and observ

I observed every seam in the wallpaper, every glint of light upon the polished surface. All the while, I cou

attempt to hide it, I feel you working the edges of

ou are aware that you are already within my scope of vision.

I could not escape the fact that I was already being monitored. Every twitch of my muscles, every breath

ked, struggling to keep my voice ev

h my pulse. "Tire? No. You are... Different. The others break down, with panic, with chaos. Yo

like invisible fetters, an undeniable weight. Every instinct in my body screamed

asked evenly. "A test? A

nunciated, each syllable deliberate. "Understanding. Observation. And... Interaction. You probe and I observe. You

e. His very presence, the act of his observing me, was sufficient. Every word he spoke

low whisper. "The way you... Affect me.

he murmured. "That means you feel. That means you're alive. That mean

uld not let him see me falter. I would not let him see me crack –

like a physical object. His intense gaze, the meticulous attention he paid

d, my voice barely audible. "Why

ost individuals are transparent. Most yield immediately. Most flinch and fall apart. You... You defy.

Alive. Alive, because of the way he watched me. Alive, because he existed in

skin as it brushed across my arm. My body instinctively recoiled and flinched, and I caught

and intimate. "The flinch, the reflex

force my heart to slow, to regu

ling me once more with slow deliberation. "It does not ma

n to show. "What happens now?" I asked, my voice devoid o

warmth of his breath on my cheek. "Or perhaps... I simply wish to gauge your response to it all. Each instinct. Each breat

with unwavering control. I would not allow him to savor my reactions. I

very scrap of training I had ever received, every experience that had ever been etched into my me

as palpable. The subtle force of that gesture twisted my gut and tightened my chest. He savored this. E

ted before my mind even had time to regis

brush my fingers, and he offered a soft, deadly smile, his e

lf to straighten, to breathe, to regain my composure. I mas

another word. He merely stood and observed, cataloged and loitere

nce, or even physical walls and shadows. He was everywhere, within me, within

I refused

ost imperceptible, upon my skin, and I flinc

begun. And I had no