Chapter 44: Rag Dolls and Raiding Goblins
The candles in Vexena’s private bedchamber burn low, casting golden, flickering shadows across the obsidian walls. The Demon Queen lay sprawled across a sea of velvet sheets, her breathing uneven, limbs tangled in her bedding. Her usually regal posture nowhere to be found as her body lay twisted in discomfort, her brow furrowed in restless dreams.
Her long white hair tangled across her pillow, and even in the deepest hours of the night, her crimson eyes flutter beneath heavy lids. Sleep... true sleep... had eluded her for years. Since the day Veena had disappeared into the world beyond the Demon Lands, her nights were tormented by silence, doubt, and the ghosts of all the things left unsaid.
Beside her, nestled under a heavy embroidered blanket, lies Virelle. She snores softly, lips puffed out, clutching a ragged doll tightly to her chest.
The toy’s eyes shimmer in the candlelight, two tiny glints of living gold. Maribelle Blackthorn, or what remains of her spirit, trapped inside the cursed ragdoll, turns her stitched head slowly, taking in the room.
She waits. Listens.
Vexena stirs in her sleep, but does not wake. Yet.
The doll carefully untangles itself from Virelle’s grip, inching across the vast bedspread like a determined insect. She hops off the edge, landing with a soft thud on the obsidian floor.
But the room was now tall. The doors, massive. The handle, unreachable.
The ragdoll turns her stitched face up at the handle. Then she scans the room again, spotting a velvet chair nearby. Grunting in effort, she pushed it slowly, scoot by scoot, until it bumps beneath the handle. She climbs, wobbling as she stands on its cushioned surface.
Her cloth fingers brushes the handle...
Click.