Crown On My Head

chapter 21

Port of Souls                          Lacey

Standing in the makeshift kitchen, I surveyed the foreign landscape of ingredients and utensils before me. My mission was clear: recreate my late mother's recipe, a culinary treasure that served as a reminder of the past. Having never learned to cook due to my royal status, I sought the assistance of Krin, a culinary maestro as well as a master thief.

Krin's interest was piqued at the prospect of helping, and with a mischievous grin, he assured me, "Consider it done, birdy. I'll find the finest ingredients in all the realms."

As Krin ventured into the bustling town in pursuit of the necessary elements, I decided to occupy myself by indulging in another skill I had cultivated over the years – drawing. Casting a swift glance around the table cluttered with blueprints and plans, I found a clean sheet of paper and allowed my imagination to take flight.

The first strokes of my pencil brought forth the towering figure of Simon, capturing his immense height and sturdy build. His sleeves rolled up, revealing the strength in his arms, and his eyes, expressive and warm, reflected his kind spirit.

Next emerged the dwarf, a companion in arms who stood in stark contrast to Simon. I detailed the intricate lines of his beard, capturing the twinkle in his eye that betrayed a wily intelligence. A smile graced my lips as I brought his character to life on the paper.

Doorlan materialised as a statue of shadows, embodying an eerie mystery. My pencil traced the enigmatic aura surrounding him, capturing the shadows that seemed to dance around, shrouding him in intrigue.

Bomb, regally adorned, became a vision of elegance and grace. I conveyed the regal attire and the confidence that exuded from her every gesture. The sketch embodied the strength and sophistication that defined Bomb's presence.

Lastly, I tackled Krin, endowing him with cat-like features that embodied agility and cunning. His eyes held a mischievous glint, and his posture exuded a feline grace. I paid meticulous attention to detail, bringing out the playfulness that defined Krin's personality.

As I continued sketching, I found myself lost in memories of my childhood. The tree in the meadow, its branches reaching toward the sky, had been my sanctuary. It was there that I sought refuge, escaping the weight of royal duties and finding solace in nature, free to draw on the canvas of the branches.

Drawing myself on the throne, I detailed the regal chair, adorned with intricate patterns and draped in luxurious fabrics. Yet, my gaze in the sketch held a hint of melancholy, a reflection of the responsibilities that came with the crown.

In a moment of introspection, I sighed and whispered to myself, "I draw because I might make a good queen. But I would never be able to make a drawing come to life." The words lingered in the air, an acknowledgment of the boundaries between my artistic escapes and the realities of ruling a kingdom.

I held the belief I could but could I win over the people. Probably but it is never that simple for those who own land or have a high place. I'm powerful. Wished to have a woman by herself on the throne. That was my problem.

How do I change their minds?