The rejected crown (book 1)

The unraveling thread

giovanna

Giovanna strode through the dimly lit corridor, echoes of the gladiators' laughter still ringing in her ears. The guards flanking her exchanged amused glances, clearly entertained by the spectacle of the young man who had just made a fool of himself—Ezra. His audacity lingered in her mind, igniting a mix of irritation and intrigue.

What a fool, she thought, shaking her head as she adjusted her cloak. Most learned to tread carefully around her, yet he had the gall to declare he was from the future, spouting nonsense as if it were revelation. Did he think he could waltz into her world and mock her authority?

"Your Highness," one guard said, struggling to suppress a chuckle. "That was quite the display."

"Display?" Giovanna replied sharply, annoyance lacing her voice. "That was a farce. I will not be the subject of anyone's jokes, least of all a gladiator."

The guard fell silent, sensing her displeasure. Giovanna straightened, allowing the weight of her royal status to settle around her. She was not merely a princess; she was the future queen. Anyone who dared undermine her authority would face consequences.

As she walked, familiar sounds of her castle surrounded her—guards barking orders, servants bustling about, and the distant clang of metal as blacksmiths worked. She cherished the order of it all, the comfort of routine. But then there was Ezra—a disruptive element in her meticulously controlled world.

Reaching her chambers, she dismissed her attendants with a wave. She needed solitude to collect her thoughts. Once the door closed behind her, she leaned against it and took a deep breath, forcing herself to regain her composure.

What am I going to do with him? she thought. The memory of Ezra's wide-eyed wonder and clumsy bravado flickered through her mind. He was amusing, yes, but that did not excuse his blatant disregard for her authority.

Suddenly, there was a knock at her door. "Your Highness?" It was her advisor, Lord Roderick, a man known for his sharp mind and silver hair. "I heard quite the commotion. Is everything well?"

Giovanna straightened, adopting her regal demeanor. "Everything is fine, Roderick. Just an absurd encounter with one of the gladiators."

"Ah, a gladiator," Roderick replied, leaning against the doorframe, a curious glint in his eyes. "Was he perhaps too bold?"

"Bold? He was an absolute imbecile," Giovanna snapped, pacing the room. "Claimed to be from the future."

"Interesting. And what do you make of such a claim?"

She paused, contemplating her response. "At first, I thought it was just a ridiculous jest. But there's something about him that—" She hesitated, realizing the intrigue that had sprung up alongside her irritation. "It's infuriating! I hate anyone who tries to take me for a fool."

Perhaps you could turn this to your advantage," Roderick suggested, a smirk playing on his lips. "Use him as a pawn in your game. Let him entertain you at the festival matches. After all, what's better than a good spectacle?"

Giovanna paused, her mind racing. "You mean take him to the matches and let him prove how foolish he truly is? Or perhaps, make a fool of himself in front of the court?"

"Precisely. If he is indeed a fool, the court will atleast be entertained . But if he somehow excels, it will only reflect well on you for having a sharp eye for talent."

"Interesting... I could certainly use a little amusement at the festival," she mused, a sly smile creeping onto her lips. "And I will make it perfectly clear that I will not tolerate any more foolishness from him."