The Lost Selection

II.

The following morning Corlina woke up with a terrible headache. She assumed it was because of the long hours listening to music and having a heavy tiara on her head, but it was also probably because she had made a decision that had kept her awake for a good part of the night after she went to bed the previous night.

Her maids had already brought her breakfast up, and had picked a pretty pink dress for her to wear that first day of her reign. A tiara, small in size but too symbolic in weight, was waiting for her as her maids finished putting her hair up and brushed out any knots from the previous sleepless night. 

She was wearing a peach coloured dress as she made her way down to the Newsome Library, still the place she felt the safest in the Palace, from everything and everyone, the place she could think about what she had to say and what she needed to say to Sir Lucien upon their first morning meeting. She greeted the guards that were already waiting for her at the entrance of the Library and opened the door, revealing the darkened room, the curtains still closed and the lights off, not even a single table lamp having been turned on, even though it was already past eight in the morning. 

Corlina knew the room like the back of her hands so she discarded the idea of turning the candelabras on or the table lamps, going instead for the curtains, deciding to open both the curtains and the windows and let some morning sunshine and breeze air out the room. 

It was as she was opening the last of the few windows in the room and turning back to sit at the expansive table at the centre of the room, that she saw a figure sat down in one of the leather chairs at the corner of one of many bookshelves, his head down, dressed almost in all dark colours, and even with the natural light coming from the nearby window Corlina could not make out who it was. 

"Good morning, Your Majesty." 

"Who are you?" 

"A friend, an ally, someone sent to give you a warning." The man was much older than Corlina, but then again most people around the Palace were, but he stayed with his head low and his black hat covering most of his face. 

"What do you want?" Corlina says, taking a step towards the table, putting the table between the two of them. 

"There's no need to be afraid, Your Majesty." He opens his mouth as if he had eaten something sour. "It doesn't roll off the tongue as easily yet, does it?" 

"What do you want?" Corlina persists, trying to be more imposing but failing as her voice shakes at the end and her hand, still propped up at the corner of the table, begins shaking. 

"I know more about your Prime Minister than you do, Your Majesty. He's not the man he's showing you to be."

"What do you mean?" 

"You think marrying him is the right thing to do, he has more experience, he has led the country during your minority. All true, of course." The man sits up on the chair, but Corlina still can't see any more of his face than she could before. "But remember, dear majesty, a hungry dog is never loyal. And you've had history lessons, I presume." 

"Of course. What does that have to do with anything?"

"Do you truly know how your parents died? What Sir Julien did afterwards? How power can change people, for better or for worse?" 

Corlina was speechless, she hadn't talked about her parents passing in such a manner in such a long time, probably since she was a teenager who had hit puberty and thought she had only Grace to count on, to let out all of her frustrations. 

She knew the official details of how her parents had died, everyone knew, and no one could forget even after a whole generation had passed. They had been killed during a terrorist attack during a visit to Sumner, the terrorist organisation never came forward and the government and armed forces were never able to find them. It was like they came together for a day, did their worse and then disappeared, without a trace and without worry of being found out.