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// Interjection 4: The Queen 
// Story: Blood Moon 
// by The_Darker_Fonts 
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There was a deep silence in the room that made Ember irritable.  She had requested this meeting three days prior, and now her husband was late to the event.  It was a continual disappointment to be Sombra’s wife, especially as he became more obsessed with trophy kills and slaves over her.   It was bad enough when he returned from a campaign and spent the night with one of his whores instead of her, but now that she had lost his favorite, it was almost guaranteed that, unless she redeemed herself, he would never spend another night with her.  And thus his heir would remain that bastard child.
Now, she stood in an empty throne room with only two guards who regarded her as merely a much richer whore.  She was, to be fair, but it was still offensive that her lasting impact on them was that she desperately needed a child from Sombra, and not her many contributions to the nation.  Sniffing indignantly, she stood her ground confidently, in spite of her husband’s tardiness. She would be hussy known for more than her tendencies when it came to her husband and pocket of lovers, and it would be started today, damn her.
The doors burst open as Sombra walked in, completely unkept and looking as if he had just run several miles.   Ridiculous, as his bedroom was right beside the throne room, so there was no secrecy as to why he looked so disheveled.  Despite the way he appeared physically, his eyes remained sharp and focused, and unfortunately for her, impatient.  He was having nothing of formalities and small talk, as he only had the patience to deal with the core of their discussion, and thanks to her years with him and her own intelligence, she knew exactly how to convince him of her plan.  
“Well, this is the meeting you’ve been begging for,” Sombra dismissively drawled, slumping carelessly into his throne.  “What is the meaning of this disturbance, dear wife of mine.”
“I have a specific request, as well as a… suggestion to broaden our horizons, both figuratively and literally,” she began slowly, attempting to hook him in.  Sombra simply raised an eyebrow, a silent suggestion that she shouldn’t waste his time with speculation.  “You see, I believe that we have been fighting our wars for far too long with the wrong technique.”  
This caused the stallion to truly raise his eyebrows, making Ember smile victoriously.  To question the King’s warfare and strategy and attempt to suggest her own plan as a better to his was a bold, almost foolish move.  Anypony else would most likely be seeing themselves off to the hanger’s noose, but she maintained her strength in Sombra’s piercing gaze.  This small moment where he and everypony else in the room was commanded to listen in her bold proclamation was exactly what she needed to gather the courage to continue.
“You see, dear, you’ve been fighting the Princesses’ soldiers for years now, and haven’t managed to break through their lines or sturdy morale, no matter how many die,” she told him cleverly.  With a mischievous twist to her smile, she asked meekly, “Wouldn’t it be easier to fight their civilians?”
Instantly, she saw the light go off in his eyes in realization of what she was suggesting, a congratulatory smile crossing his face to join her’s.  
“My dear wife,” Sombra slowly began, his deep voice considerate in his words of praise.  Ember straightened herself as she prepared to receive her long overdue eulogy, a testament to her greatness.  “Your mind is certainly one most clever, finding a way to so quickly redeem yourself from an embarrassing failure.  It is most desirable of me to have the entirety of the land under my possession, as you know, and this strategy, vile as it is, does indeed provide that opportunity.  It is expedient to me that this strategy shall be put into effect immediately, with preparations being made for such an endeavor to commence henceforth.”
Ember beamed as the imposing stallion leaned down towards her from his throne, a twisted smile crossing his face.  “As for my wife and queen, she shall be rewarded with a quick and honorable death, contrary to the previously ordered hanging.  It’d be a shame to ruin another pretty face.”
Ember’s stomach dropped, a dread filling her as she felt all elation immediately leave.  Sombra’s eyes were a cold, leering void of scorn and mockery, and Ember knew as soon as she looked into them that there was no mercy for her.  Still, she couldn’t prevent herself from attempting to dig herself out of the hole she had somehow stumbled into.
“B-b-but I’ve been a good wife,” she protested as she heard the guards approach her.  “I’ve attempted every day to provide you an heir, a prince to succeed you!  I still can, and am still young!”
“Silence, whore,” the King’s voice boomed through the hall, stilling everypony, including the guards.  All jovalty was lost from him, rage filling his face as he glared down at her.  “You know your crimes, worthless wench.  You know that you chased off my favorite slave, and consequently my true heir.  I always intended to be rid of you, with your petty politics and minute thinking.  You had never been a truly ambitious mare, simply one who never wanted to be replaced.”
“Sh-sh… She hates you though,” Ember cried, tears coming to her eyes as she desperately threw everything at him she could.  
“Slut, you hate me,” Sombra retaliated, unbothered.  “Besides, she had a true spirit to her!  She attempted to kill me, assassinate me in my own carriage, camp, and country.  For certain nopony else in history, not even the Princesses, have had such boldness to attempt anything so risky.  Indeed, she has ambition, and I intend to retrieve her.”  The King paused, taking a moment to visibly savor the fallen Queen’s tears.  “Now you see it, yes?  You can be replaced with any other mare in this land, but to have an heir from both lands, who inherits my immense knowledge and power and that mare’s keen boldness, inherits the genealogy of both nations, will have not only the power to conquer the world, but the de jure claim to it as well!” 
The stallion fell back into his throne in true bliss, smiling as he wondered aloud, “Would it even matter if I were to finish the job now?”
As he said that, eyes up towards the almost transparent crystals that made the roof, Ember had one last desperate thought.  Knowing the time to react was short, she lit her horn and turned to the guard that had stepped up to her, shocking him with her purple lightning.  The guard fell without a cry, a trail of smoke coming from a hole through his thick metal armor.  Before the mare could even turn to run, however, she felt her entire body seize up as Sombra’s laughter filled the chamber.
“Pitiful, so pitiful,” he snickered, forcibly turning her to face him.  Crystals formed up the entire body of her, leaving only her neck and head uncovered.  Even her horn was crystalized as she attempted desperately to use her magic to break free.  The King nodded, the foreboding motion sending tremors down her body.  
“No, no please!”  Her voice came out high-pitched as she shuddered uncontrollably.  “Please spare me!”  Tears streamed down her face, blinding her.  
She didn’t need to see though to hear the King’s simple, “No.”
Her pleas became inaudible, but even though they filled the entire chamber, she could still hear a single sound.  The sound of a blade scraping gently across the floor as it was being raised.  
Instantly, all her pleas stopped, even her sniffling coming under control as she strained to hear any noise indicating her death.  Within only a few seconds of waiting, she heard it, the terrible sound.  The blade of metal sang as it cut through the air, and then all was silence.

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Trinity meekly entered the room, as beckoned by the guards.  He was a shorter stallion, which meant when he entered, the looming shadow of Sombra and his throne covered him completely.  He gulped as his eyes caught the sight of the headless queen, her body held upright by the crystal that encased everything save for the bloody stub of her neck.  Blood stained the crystal surrounding the neck and the floor beneath it, and it was only when he glanced directly at the grisly display that he realized the queen’s head was propped towards the door, mouth agape with closed eyes in a silent scream, a blood necklace around its base. 
Grimacing at the gruesome display, Trinity turned to his liege, asking, “So you finally went through with the plan, then?”
“Indeed I did,” the King responded cheerfully, lazily staring at the dead queen.  “It was the happiest I’ve felt in far too long, killing that belligerent whore.”
“Well, it’s always a relief to be rid of a pest,” Trinity responded with one last look at the corpse.  “Now, did you call me to your court to brag of finally being free of the wench or do you have new orders.”
“Both,” the stallion admitted, waving his hoof around.  With a disgusted look to the queen’s body, Sombra explained, “You see, before I had her executed by the sword, I wanted to hang her, to see the life drain from her eyes slowly as she died.  She actually requested this meeting, to propose a few ideas of her own.  They were useless, almost completely, save for one in particular I hadn’t quite perceived.”  The King stood, and began walking down the steps, genuinely asking Trinity, “Am I fighting this war wrong, my friend?”
“No sir,” Trinity responded immediately.  Even after taking a moment to consider, he could think of no flaw in the conduction of the war against the Princesses that was expressly Sombra’s fault.  “I haven’t a clue as to why you would doubt yourself.”
The stallion smiled at the compliment, but it was bitterly replaced with a frown as he approached the obscene figure of the headless mare.  Reaching a hoof out and touching the very tip of Ember’s horn, the stallion said, “In her dying hour, Ember proposed a plan to me to both win back new land and my favor.  I was almost caught off-guard by the unusually intelligent proposal, but now I only feel idiotic for not seeing the solution myself.  You see, Trinity, we’ve been fighting the wrong ponies.”
Confused, Trinity dared to inquire, “What does that entail, sire?”
“It means,” Sombra said triumphantly, turning to the unicorn.  “I want you to prepare a force of soldiers to attack the villages of the Opotimare Valley.”