Saraiyu

Prologue

Queen of Itslí dramatically threw the throne room door open, her long skirts sweeping.

"King," she said respectfully but she couldn't hide the anger underneath, "I have a request to make."

"If this is abou—"

"I wasn't finished," she interrupted, "We made a deal. My eldest daughter will marry your son in exchange for an ally and support. They aren't of age yet, but if you do not help us I will get her engaged to a kingdom that keeps their promises. You may be the biggest kingdom in this part, but up north they have bigger kingdoms more than eager to marry my daughter and our country."

Her threat hung in the air, piercing the thick tension in the room. The King drew himself up, and sneered at the queen.

"You may be the second biggest empire in Sudamérica, but I am the more powerful of us two. Watch yourself, I am feeling merciful today, but next time I may just wage war on your country," the King of Suliná, King Gardomal retorted.

Queen Anyerami of Itslí didn't bat an eyelash.

"Now Gardomal, our boy and hers are getting along nicely, why would we want to tear a friendship so? My dear friend Anyerami, Queen of Itslí, please come with me. We shall talk of the wedding plans. It will be the grandest of the world, for it will take five years to plan, before Princess Lárima is of age and Crown Prince Leonjairo is prepared to be a husband," Queen Chayeli of Suliná said, calming the tension and once again saving her husband and her country from possible disaster.

Chayeli and Anyerami walked together out of the throne room and outside onto the path. Guards promptly surrounded them so they'd be protected, and maybe not allowing them, or more specifically Anyerami from escaping.

The Queen of Itslí took notice of this quietly, deciding they thought her rash and stupid for thinking she would escape without her pawn and nothing to transport them.

They would have to find another way to get supplies that didn't involve princess Lárima or marriage.

Maybe not Lárima but one of my other children for marriage. Perhaps Daniel or Marcelo or Herlinda. Maybe my nephew, he just turned 13 the same age as the second daughter of the King of Porto Ch' beleza, they are a small nation, but rich, the calculating Queen Anyerami thought.

The two queens strolled down the path, strategizing plans and schemes of wars and power while making small talk.

All queens turned like this once they reached a certain point of disappointments and despair. Hopefully for our young Queen-in-Waiting, Lárima, this wouldn't be the case.