She said she’d come when the butterflies flutter by, but spring came and went without a sighting. Then summer, then autumn. When winter rolled around I caught a glimpse of spotted wings and knew they were carried upon her breath.

I delved into my studies to find that indeed, the Dark Queen cannot reign from the shadows. She thrives on contrast; she commands symphonies of her minions on snow.

Now her spirit deepens my midwinter dreams. She lay upon my pillow, whispering sweet promises of death to my face. I awake to the bodiless wings of Monarchs in my window.