Someone Else's Kingdom, BOOK II - Scene LX

Tempers were frayed. There had even been riots in some parts of the capital. Everyone across the house, and in the wider country stood desperate to know if the rumours circulating were true. If the Maiden Tower maidens - their precious native daughters - had been shipped, by secret, in the dead of night. As tribute to pacify their ever swarming enemy: the ruthless Eastern Kingdom and Caster forces. The entire northern half of the Maiden Lands now lay occupied, and the more populous regions of the south waited in fear of conquest and slavery. Though, with this latest grim news, death languished far below dishonour in the ranking, the anger so taking over. Peace on such terms a truly filthy word. The very suggestion a rallying cry for suicidal push back.

Queen Aglaia looked imperious as ever as she entered the house and strolled towards its centre, to once again explain her actions. Her long, flowing dress brightly adorned with stars and sequins, her hair large and stiff; making her look like a plump, proud pheasant. As she appeared a brooding silence cast over the chamber. Her villainous presence eliciting a seething communal glare from its members. With even her most sycophantic followers choosing quiet distance over any possibility of perceived allegiance. Though one or two inwardly agreed with the realpolitik of her decision - after all, what were a hundred or so girls in comparison to the very kingdom itself. If it meant saving their own skins to boot, all the better.

Aglaia looked loftily around the room, taking in the confrontational atmosphere. For a few seconds she felt a slight disappointment at the stupidity of the men assembled, but then smiled with a relief that it made things so much more simple. She cleared her throat loudly to grab their full attention, though she already held it in completion. Then, finally, she went to speak, but hesitated - a slight nervousness overcoming her. A feeling she would never normally feel in such moments of drama.

Over her long reign there had been many crises, but her stone-hard psyche had always remained unflappable. As she went to speak again a rush of deja vu flashed against her inner eyelids. In the single blink and flutter she gripped the lectern firmly. Suddenly, visions of her first ever address to the house came flooding back. From time long ago, when she was so much the younger. A delicate flower-like maiden herself. She remembered she had felt nerves then too, yet had hidden them to do her duty. The memories pulsed through her brain as she braced herself to deliver the tirade. Then she fell down to the floor.

The angry silence of the house was replaced by an even deeper, deadening silence. Then, a long, shocked half-second later the Queen's loyal guards went running to her side. Her body still and unmoving on the hard wooden floor.

"Get back!" screamed one of the guards to the crowding peers, desperate to give the monarch some space. The silent shock quickly replaced by an all-consuming panic. Some members walked from the chamber in response, unable to process the scene. Others watched down from the benches. The frantic guards, so much more executive than the helpless elders watching on, busy trying to revive the prostrate queen. It was little use.

The Queen Was Dead.