She Who Returned

Filed under: Court Records — Bloodbound Monarchs

They thought she was gone.They thought ruin had swallowed her whole—a crown cracked, a voice silenced, a legend unmade.

But she returned.

And not for them.

She came back wearing the dress they burned, seated herself on the throne built from their excuses, and poured tea with the same hand that once trembled in the dark.

He does not flinch now. She does not ask. The crown was not inherited. It was reforged— each spike sharpened by betrayal, each point a name she no longer speaks aloud. The throne is not carved. It is claimed.

It bears the skulls of former loves and fond disappointments. It fits her back like memory.

Like vengeance dressed in silk. She sips from porcelain. She does not spill.

And beneath her hem, nestled in quiet violence, sits her companion: a rabbit with judgment in his eyes and a needle in his paw.

You may call him Bunny. You may not call him cute.

Together, they do not reign. 

They remember.

They record. They rise.

Welcome to Velinwood Court. This time, it is not she who kneels. The kingdom remembers who built the throne. And memory is not merciful.