being a queen ugh hard work

1 :: being a royal child

a crown of shimmering rose quartz and jade rested on a stern face that had serious eyes, boreing down on the girl. the eyes said to her "this is your dynasty, your destiny, this is what you must do now". she looked at the plaque name thingy :
     king vlakas VII , queen anastasia III
                      coronation day

her parents.

she looked at them as one might simply look at the wall. tbh, she was not mad at the gods for quickly ending the lives of her parents. she had felt remorse when hearing of her mother's passing; the distance between them was always so far and she had never been given the chance to be a true mother.

her father on the other hand was oof a different story. his breaking of the rules, marriage of not one not two but eight wives and quick temperament weren't the only reasons for his downfall. lmaooo no bitch his obesity killed him. having the same fatal damage as an ak-48, the constant consumption of wine, ale, meat, cakes, potatoes, more meat and then slap
even some more meat on top of that has eventually began taking its toll as it should. the fat not only made him a sweaty, puss producing, stinky old man but my gods it made him ugly af. eight chins, and toes the size of my head if it was enlarged twelve times over. the fat he had been collecting slid the heart and lungs and intestines aside to make room for his collection book. in the process killing his ability to breath. so one day when his damn toes got so red and puffy and were oozing light liquid that renched of cooked artichokes and he , as many other days, could not for the life of him get out of bed, he began sweating crazy. liquid exploded from every pore, redness shined through his skin, and his lungs couldn't take it anymore; he died.

eh, her daughter felt fine bout the death but not relieved. the man barely gave her any attention, instead letting his advisors and court take care of her. after being deemed to annoying from her father due to her occasional butting in of the politics and small council meeting, she was sent away from the palace at the ripe age of 10 to her untie's smaller, more humbler estate in a lovely town. there she loved it. the nature, the ppl, the environment. she would farm and see and cook as if she was nothing but an ordinary girl, living her days out in early retirement.

but, now he had immaturely left the difficult life-taking job of being the ruler of [insert country name] to his poor 18 year old inexperienced daughter.

welp, she thought, looking at the gigantic hand carved golden decorated doors. this is it, is was going to happen to me eventually. she could hear her house's theme song being played by the ensemble and the noise grew as the doors opened abruptly.