Alice’s Box

Beatrice looked at the box just in front of her.  She held it with both hand while it rested on her lap.  Tears fell on the lid; Beatrice sat motionless, deep in her thoughts.  It had been a couple of hard days since the death of his brother; murdered by her lover.  She would now be the Queen of Remenia, as she had planned.  With Alice demise, Beatrice easily distorted the events of that day.  She said Alice had confessed she had deprived the King of his life, before committing suicide in front of Beatrice.

Once again the kingdom mourned the death of its King.  Once again they would crown a member of the royal family; and it would be Queen Beatrice.  She grinned with that reflection.  But the smile would fade at once.  The price she had to pay was stiff; she had lost her love Alice.  The rain compounded her feelings, but she enjoyed feeling miserable.

Duke Roland visited Beatrice earlier that morning and delivered the box in Beatrice hands.  He found the box while cleaning Alice’s wardrobe.  The box had Beatrice name on it.  The Duke knew how close Alice was to Beatrice, and had respected what he thought were Alice wishes.  As he departed, he knelt and kissed Beatrice’s hand.  She could the sadness in his face; loosing his daughter was devastating.

What would she find inside?  Alice never mentioned a box for her.  She was afraid to open the lid, she didn’t know why.  Maybe she was afraid of herself, of what she would’ve hidden.   But Alice was not her, she was a very sweet person.   She opened the box slowly; inside she could see half a dozen oliebollen.  Beatrice smiled wickedly, and without thinking too much, she grabbed an oliebol and ate it.  Then, Beatrice paused as expecting something to happen.  She looked to the side, she closed her eyes.  She took a deep breath, and … nothing happened.  Oh, she was really enjoying it; not the oliebol but her daring action.  Only five oliebollen left.

“Would I chance another?”  She said out loud. “Yes!” She said excited.

Another oliebol found its way inside her mouth.  As she tasted the oliebol, she blissed out.  “They are very old, they taste awful.”

She recalled, a couple of weeks ago, she had played a game with Alice.  They were so deeply in love, they didn’t care about anything but to be together.  Beatrice had her sadist way with the game.  The rules were easy, they would get a dozen oliebollen.  Beatrice filled one with prussic acid.  Next, they would mix the oliebollen so they would not know which one was poisoned.  Each would select three oliebollen.  Finally, they would take turns eating them, while they passionately kissed in bed.  She remembered they would stare at each other wondering who would be lucky enough to die loved.

Alice must have saved the six remaining oliebollen in the box.  Now, there were only four.  She chose another one, and moved her hand slowly toward her lips, touching them.  She closed her eyes ready to meet her destiny.  Then, somebody knock at the door.  Beatrice stood up and went to the balcony.  She threw the rest of the oliebollen over the rail.  “Maybe someone will be luckier.”

At the door, she received Countess Joan.


For the IndieInk Writing Challenge this week, Lance challenged me with “the case of the poisoned doughnut” and I challenged Chaos Mandy with “The cat slept beside the lantern, resting over my shoes.”

I also picked up an Orphan Prompt, “Someone close to you has died suddenly. While you’re helping clean out their now vacant living space, you find a box with your name on it. (What you tell us next is up to you.)”.  The short story continues the plot from Beatrice, Alice and the King.


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