9Lesandra
It had been more than two months since the beginning of the competition to see who would earn the right to the throne, and none of us were any closer than when we started.
I couldn't believe this was happening. I refused to lose, especially to someone like James, who didn't care for anyone besides himself. He didn't care about the throne, not like I did.
He hadn't spent years of his life being groomed for court life, being raised for greatness. Instead, he had spent all his time abusing his power to get what he wanted. His goals were so, so low. Insectile. He had no vision, no ambition. No need.
Not like me.
I needed the throne more than a man lost in the desert needs a drink.
I sat in the bathroom in my private quarters, staring at the wall, because I couldn't bring myself to look at the pregnancy test clutched in my hand. I couldn't bear to be disappointed again, even though I should be used to it by now. My entire life was nothing more than one letdown after another.
First, there was the discovery that women didn't hold as much power in court as their husbands did. Times had changed since then, becoming a little more open and accepting, but it was still quite clear that many women lacked the desire to take on responsibility when they could have their husbands do all that.
From a young age, I vowed that I would never have a husband. I wouldn't split my responsibilities or let anyone take them away from me.
Unfortunately, a young girl didn't have much say in her future, and I had found myself betrothed to a man twice my age when I was only sixteen.
A pity he fell down those steps only two years into our marriage. He'd hit his head no less than four separate times while tumbling down the entire flight from the top of the palace to the bottom. He was dead before he reached the first floor, according to medical reports.
I had my first miscarriage not long after that.
And another in the years to come, after leading on a young, foreign lordling for several months. He never knew I didn't want him.
I just wanted his baby.
I was going to have a daughter, and I would raise her to be a proud and independent woman like me, with no need for a man.
Breaking out of my thoughts, I held my breath and looked at the pregnancy test. The little screen was bright and clear, leaving no doubt as to the result.
Not pregnant.
"For fuck's sake!" I shouted, and threw the test at the wall. The stick bounced off the tiles and clattered to the floor, the sounds too tiny and meek to be of any real satisfaction.
Snarling to myself, I stomped out of the bathroom and tore at my bed, ripping the blankets and pillows onto the floor. I went after my bookcase next, pulling books out and throwing them at the walls, the ceiling, the dresser. Rather than abating, my frustration only seemed to grow bigger, more intense.
When the rest of Denmark had been busy being shocked by Queen Delia's abdication announcement, I had been scheming. This was perfect. It fit in exactly with what I wanted so much.
I would have that proud, independent daughter, and she would be queen after me! We could change the world together, giving other women the resources to break out of the grasp of the men in their lives!
And no cousin of mine was going to ruin that for me.
Someone knocked on my door. Beating up on a person was a far more attractive possibility than tossing around lifeless items in my room. I hurried over to the door and threw it open to find none other than Dickon staring in at me.
