57| the First Queen of Crimson

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~Micah~

"I just don't think we need to open the budget up for this, to be frank, I think updating the history museum would be a foolish waste of time when we could be using the resources for a second training camp,"

Timothy, our director of finances has the audacity to say as he faces my brothers and I. We often met in this board room to discuss our affairs at least once a week at city hall. The three of us formed a 'U' shape with Galen between Casper and I as we each had our own individual tables to set up on with multiple holograms and our specialized tablets specific to our jobs.

Casper leaned back in his chair, scrolling through his private feed to discuss new bounties with Jace.

Galen was half paying attention to Timothy who stood at the Crimson crest at the center of the carpeted floor. While halfway breezing through new notifications about the sorting ceremony which would be happening shortly after the next Antum graduation.

With Lilly due any day now, it's getting harder and harder to keep his attention on anything for longer than three minutes as he preoccupied his mind with everything he could get his hands on. Throwing himself at this sorting ceremony. Even going through each child's Antum profile which included teachers notes, their grades, their skill sets, and hobbies to decide which sector of Crimson would be best for them.

Every crimson child dreams of going into the defense sector where they would undergo three years of specialized training to turn them into the guardians of Kailea, after which they would be assigned a house to protect which is a separate ceremony altogether that Tora attended with Galen two months ago.

But not everyone is fit for it and Galen is the one to sort through them all, something our father could never do alone while handling all of the overwhelming responsibility. Especially since our auntie Artemis passed away when we were younger after an attack on Crimson from foreign invaders who perished shortly after.

So while Galen lost focus about sixty seconds ago, I was the last one truly listening. As I tend to do when my brothers lag behind and I remind them when it comes up later. Usually, this fact is acknowledged and I'm respectfully spoken to, but Timothy decided to go about this differently.

It was his first time in this room and from the sweat, on his brow, I could tell he was nervous, but nerves are no excuse for blatant disrespect. And it isn't in his favor to do so right now since he's decided to talk shit about my specific program as handling the arts of Crimson is one of the many programs I run and my suggestion.

I hold my tongue as I pout my glossed lips in thought and cross my legs. The gentle click of my red bottom black heels holds a deeper power within me as I smooth over my knee-length black dress. My crisp crimson blazer crinkled at the elbows as I leaned in with my hands clasped together in front of me.

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