Queen's Chaos.

Journal of Valencia Alfieri, 21st of Moontide, Year 79.

Day 1 of my rule- Finally, I am Queen, what was once prophesised upon the shores of Yhnai has come to pass. Albeit, by marriage and not by conquest as my dear departed Father would have wished. It must torment his soul to no end to see his last surviving daughter wed to the son of the man that burnt his kingdom to ground, from the afterlife. 

Good.

I rule more now than that imbecile ever did, just by wearing the right type of dress and fluttering my eyelashes at King Tyrneous. I had that bearded lummox eating out of the palm of my hand in not time at all, much to the chagrin of his other would-be brides. Their looks of acidic jealousy at mine and the King's nuptials will forever bring a smile to my face. And a warm feeling to my heart. 

Of course, my new husband has no idea of my true heritage. He believes me to be the child of a Duke from the southern archipelago, and the measures I have put in place will ensure that illusion. As for this diary, it will be well hidden with the sorcery I learned in Nilbaton, hopefully that will be enough to keep it hidden from my Husband and any nosy servants. 

Anyway, now that I am Queen of the great island nation of Vandragos, I have access (Unlimited, I hope) to one of the greatest repositiories of forbidden knowledge in the world: The tower of Acclimecius. I wasted no time in entering said tower, of course, but before I could I had to consumate my marriage to Tyrneous. Which, thankfully didn't last long, due to the strong wine my dear Husband had been drinking. So he ended up passing out not long after reaching climax, giving me freedom to do as I please without question, and saving me from any post-coital pillow talk. And then, it was off to the tower.

That snide prick of a Steward: Aloysius shot me a look of disapproval as I passed by him. Wearing my new and elegant robe of course, that was a wedding gift from one of the King's cousins. At first I thought his disapproving look was due to me being out of the King's chambers in nothing but that robe. No shoes or slippers or anything underneath it, I was barefoot and without undergarments. I didn't waste time with clothes, I just wanted to get to the tower as soon as I could and just threw anything on. But then I noticed the King's personal Alchemist and Healer: Clement, he and Aloysius seemed to have been in a deep conversation before I made my grand appearence in the hall. I chose to ignore both of them, I didn't want to waste more time with their inane prattle. But sadly, things didn't go that way. 

"Your majesty?" That fop simp Aloysius called after me, in his sneering tone. His voice was this awful whine that sounded incredibly unmanly, and it makes my skin crawl just remembering it. I remember sighing and turning to face him, trying to keep the annoyance off my face. Which was incredibly diffcult, as Aloysius face was just as disgusting as his voice. He looked like a fat and sad dog. And in that moment, as I looked upon him waiting for an explanation for why he stopped me, I pitied his wife or husband or whoever was unlucky enough to be on the business end of his shrivelled cock. He didn't speakd for a few seconds, forcing me to: "What is it, Aloysius?" I asked him, keeping the rage that was building inside me out of my voice, and trying to keep my tone calm and measured. Aloysius didn't answer me, but Clement did. He stood up and pulled his hood down, revealing an aged and time-ravaged face, that was low on teeth, but high in wrinkles. He looked like a fucking skull. "What steward Aloysius is bothering you with, your Majesty: is that we must perform...the inspection." his voice sound like a rusty hinge, and in my peripheral vision I noted Aloysius fat face glow bright red. I assumed the sudden blush upon Aloysius' face had come from him ogling my breasts or my legs; the former practically spilling out of my robe and the latter revealed all the way up to my thighs.(Yeah, it's a bit small on me) "What inspection are you talking about?" I asked Clement, ignoring Aloysius' stupid red face. The old man's mouth had suddenly gone dry, and he rubbed his hands together nervously, his eyes refusing to look at me. "Well?" I demanded, my annoyance at this pointless interaction growing increasingly more volatile with each passing second. But Clement didn't answer, instead I was treated to the hideous tones of Aloysius' voice once again: "As is tradition on the night of a royal wedding, once copulation has occured. An inspection must be carried out on the area upon which seed was deposited."