“Bingo, Queenie,” said the Mad God with a point of his index finger aggressively towards her. “I’ve had my eyes on you for a looooong, ol’ time,” he continued. “Ever since you were a small thing, writing in that journal of yours about the conspiracies of your mother’s death.” He paused his flouncing walk and turned back towards Fadia. “I don’t have her, by the way.” He winked. “It was that putrid little princeling your father banished back in the day, he murdered your mother in retaliation for your father being chosen king over himself.”
Fadiya felt like she was falling through the void, she had been wrong. Wrong. Wrong. All these years, she had been convinced she could find her mother and get her back. No wonder her father had never taken her seriously. He had known the truth. Had he ever tried to tell her? How could he have trusted her as his heir if he knew she had been so stupid?
Sheogorath was grinning that mad, menacing grin of his, watching her as though he could read the very thoughts rolling through her mind. And, of course, he could. He was a Daedric Prince, after all, the Mad God.
“Good, good,” he growled, “don’t resist the slide, Queenie. You don’t have far to go now.”
Inktober 2024, Prompt #17: JOURNAL🧡🖤👻🎃


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