Let The Games Begin.

Finding a Match

     "I seriously do not see why I have to be married to rule!" I exclaim, slamming the hair brush onto the vanity. Taking a deep breath and composing myself, I say, "Mother, you have always told me that a strong queen understands the distance between herself and her king, and often stands alone. Why not cut the distance entirely? I do not need a king!" I am shouting again by the end. 

My mother, Empress Helena, clasps her hands, "My dear, just because your father made every effort to put distance between us, doesn't mean your future husband will do the same. You need a husband. The nation needs an Emperor."

     "Why?" I ask again, crossing my arms defiantly. 

She inhales deeply. "Because, for what seems like the one hundredth time, your nation needs an Emperor. A strong Emperor represents stability and that's what a nation clings to. If an Empress dies in childbirth, the nation can go on. And he is relied on heavily during a time of famine or pestilence, and especially during war. I understand that the death of your father is effec-"

     "Oh, mother- please. I never liked that old brute." I slouch back into the chair, covering my face with my hand. "He disrespected you in every way. Disgraced you for your infertility after my birth, and had no problem entertaining a mistress- or five. He loved to spread rumors about you to court nobles. I don't miss him in the slightest."

     "Integra, respect your father." She said curtly, clasping her hands. "He was a good man, You're too young to see it fully." Mother sighs, straightening her chiton. "Now, fix your hair and call a servant to clip your chiton and tie your zoster. You look like a drowned rat. Meet me in the throne room."

I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could speak, she adds, "-And NO whining. We're currently out of cheese."

I huff and cross my arms, standing behind the vanity chair for quite some time. I guess it would be best to at least get ready. If I show no interest, maybe she won't force me to marry just yet. I have no interest in a suitor. A tough act might scare the men away.

I take a seat at the vanity and tug on the golden rope hanging beside the mirror. Somewhere in the servants quarters, a bell rings, although I can't hear it. Several minutes later, the large oak door swings open and an older maid scurries in.

    "Yes, your majesty?" She asks, gaze fixed on the ground.

I sigh and roll my eyes, turning sideways in the chair. "It's not a crime to look at a royal, you know? I just need my chiton clipped, and mother thinks I can't tie a belt on my own. And I need to find a way to tame my mess of hair."

     "Yes, of course." The maid shuffled in further and then closed the door, moving over to the armoire. "Which chiton were you considering, Princess? Or would you prefer a more traditionally festive garment?"

     "Well, Mother was wearing an emerald color, so perhaps a navy one? Or a white one? Something that's on our royal seal, ideally. Although, we both know how I feel about tradition."

     "I think that would be lovely." The maid says, pausing before raising her gaze to mine. "And... And for your hair, we could maybe try an elegant low braided crown? I've seen the chic ones the ladies wear from foreign countries.. I bet they would only magnify your beauty." She flushes, quickly turning back to the rack of clothes.

I stand, silently appearing at her side. "I think you're absolutely correct." I wring my hands in my nightgown. "May I have your name?" I asked.

     "It's Olea, your highness." She smiles, motioning for me to step onto the dressing block. "And I'm aware how inappropriate this is, but may I offer you a word of advice?"