Ivan

Ivan cared very little for the finery of nobles, and the grand halls of the castle of High Country barely caused him to blink. The hand-carved bow on his back and heavy animal furs lining his shoulders lay in sharp contrast to the metal and leather armor of the guards and the marble pillars and elegant candelabra decorating the castle.

The armed guards flanking him had grim expressions and wore the livery of the special guards of the Queen of High Country, and the only reason he had not slain them both when they had demanded he come with them was the faint curiosity he had felt at how brazenly they had worn those colors when they had stepped into the inn where they had found him, deep in the kingdom of the Enchanted Forest, where they held no authority.

They had not said a word on the long carriage ride over, and were silent still as they escorted him through the halls and to the private chambers of Queen Morrigan of High Country. The room was relatively small and cozy, but grandly furnished with dark silks and velvets. A bronze chalice stood on a white, wooden dressing-table partially covered with a strip of red velvet, and it caught his eye for the massive, gold-framed mirror hanging in front of it. More specifically, he could not help but note that the mirror was not reflecting the chalice at all. Also missing, in that reflection, was a large, intricately carved chest standing under the window across the room that looked almost as if it had been carved from a large piece of ivory. The windows were covered with thick curtains and the room was dimly lit only with rows and rows of candles lining the room.

The hunter had heard rumors that the Queen of High Country was a witch, but he had not expected her to furnish her rooms so obviously, not when there were allegations that she had orchestrated the King's mysterious death three years ago. It was easy to blame his weakened heart on the grief he had felt at the loss of all eleven of his sons, harder to protest that she'd had nothing to do with it, when her room practically reeked of magic.

The woman in front of him did not match the expectation her room gave him at all. She was young, fairly pretty, and finely dressed in a single light gown of fine black muslin. It would have taken him a moment to realize who she was, in fact, if she hadn't been wearing the jewel-studded golden crown of the current ruler of High Country. He would have thought she looked rather harmless, but the expression on her face was neither queenly nor harmless. There was a wild, almost deranged look of anger and fear in her eyes, and she was gripping her hands so tightly together her arms were shaking.

"The huntsman you asked for, Your Majesty." One of the guards told her.

She waved her hand at him, "I can see that. Now, get out." The guards left without a word, and Ivan thought he saw a note of relief in their eyes.

He stood there in silence, looking at the woman in front of him, assuming she had wanted to speak to him about something, since she had gone so far as to drag him here all the way over from the neighboring kingdom, but for the longest time, she said nothing. She didn't even look at him at first, staring instead at her hands, and then glancing at the mirror, and then back down at her hands, twisting an old ring with a red stone around her middle finger over and over again. Ivan was a hunter, though; he could be patient.

After some time had passed, she finally looked straight at him. Her perfect posture, which had stayed firm throughout her manic pacing, however, suddenly morphed into something properly regal. Her chin lifted ever so slightly, and her dark eyes firmly fixed on him, but it seemed she was still not quite committed to what she had wanted to ask of him, because her voice was a little shaky. "You're Ivan? The one they say is more ruthless a hunter of men than beasts."

He shrugged, "That depends on if you believe men are not beasts."

A flash of vicious pleasure seemed to war with the hint of guilt in her expression, making Ivan decide that her pretty face was actually kind of monstrous to look at. She paused for a moment longer, then said, "I want you to kill someone for me. A 15-year-old, sweet, innocent little girl." Her face twisted in an even more horrific expression, as he realized she really believed the description she was giving him, and was trying to convince herself that she didn't care. "Is that a problem for you?"

Ivan just gave her a shrug and a measured look, keeping his true thoughts to himself, but answering honestly, "My reputation would be pretty poorly founded if I couldn't kill women and children. No one is as innocent as people think they are."

She gave a cough of laughter in response, "Tomorrow, you are going to accompany my stepdaughter, Princess Elisa, into the forest at the edge of the castle, and there you will kill her, carve out her heart, and bring it back to me. You will be richly rewarded. Do you understand?"

Ivan shrugged and nodded, "It seems a simple enough task."

"Good. Now go. I look forward to seeing the fruits of your work." She said roughly, then turned around dismissively.

Ivan exited her chambers and found the guards who had initially escorted him there waiting for him. They showed him to a guest chamber and gave him a guard's uniform, showing him which room to report to tomorrow. It seemed like a lot of trouble to go to just to take care of a little princess, especially for a woman who was undoubtedly a witch.