The Missing Monarch

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [Stuck Up Royals] ࿐ྂ

Quinn:
1879, November

Once again, Brielle was sat atop her throne, except this time, more depressed than bored and with a bigger crown weighing her down. Her mother, Queen Hyacinth, hadn't been the best mother but she still missed her even Quinn knew that. Quinn could see she was longing for the responsibility to be taken off her worn down shoulders and given back to her mother once again.

Her great depression was weighing quite heavily on Quinn too, who didn't have an inkling on what to do. Brielle ate only scraps from the many buffets the cooks had made, some days she sat on her throne all day to the late hours of the night and some times she would bark some commands at Quinn and the other guards. She was visibly so tired from this new found responsibility and Quinn couldn't stand to see her suffering. So if it meant going to the nearest city, Jeilov, in search of woman companionship for Brielle, he would. Not quite what Brielle had wanted but he knew she craved some sort of company that Quinn couldn't provide.

However, when Quinn went to Jeilov he was surprised to see the state of the city and the people. The city which had once been said to be a place of riches and dreams, was now nothing more than an easy target for the likes of petty thieves. The streets were moderately clean, but the air hung heavy with the stench of tension and crime. It showed on all the shops he passed; doors hanging open because they'd been ripped off the hinges, windows either bordered up or smashed in and then there was no sign of life in any of these places. The darkness had wrapped up all these little businesses, on this side of the city, in a neat, tight blanket and Quinn couldn't help but wonder why he'd chosen here to look for companions. He knew he'd regret his choice of coming to this city and now that he was back in the castle, he pondered on why he hadn't just tried to cheer Brielle up himself instead of relying on the likes of these women.

Brielle now had 4 ladies in waiting in total, which were apparently the best Jeilov had to offer. All four women were triple Brielle's age and held a common interest in gossip. It was the worst thing ever for Quinn's nerves because they only ever talked about gossip. Why didn't they ever just ask each other simply how their days were?

After the first day of meeting her new ladies in waiting, Brielle had many flattering descriptions of them that she had shared with him in between sips of her tea. Quinn couldn't help but agree with everything she had said. Lady Mary Corby, her skinny frame was in exchange for her loud personality, Lady August Merryweather, so merry she put old Saint Nicolas to shame, Lady Charlotte Osborne, pudgy as well as gobby, and finally Lady Eleanor Whittingham, the loudest woman known to mankind. These women were either the most insufferable women they'd both ever met or the most nosiest (Brielle and Quinn hadn't been able to decide).

Quinn knew Brielle was all for woman empowerment and he had always tried to encourage her about it when he could but to use these women as representatives was proof to what most bigoted men saw all women as. He would really have to research into the next group of women he hired to follow and entertain Brielle with. Even if that meant travelling further than Jeilov.

These current group of women Brielle had casted as 'The Gossiping Gazelles' were coming to the castle again. They always did come to the castle once every couple of days, much to Brielle and Quinn's delightment. Except this time was different as they strolled in with a somewhat alright specimen of a man, from what Quinn could tell so far.

Quinn knew Brielle would have found this young lad to be quite attractive, if he did not have the frame of a wooden panel and strolled confidently as if he already owned this mere castle and luxurious grounds. His hair was plastered against his head, bold yellow reflecting the sun off it, and skin so pale he made the women standing around him look brown in comparison. Quinn couldn't see his eyes from this height but imagined them holding all that smug and cold glee radiating off from the stiffness of his shoulders.