The Queen's Daughter

Prologue

Trumpets sounded in the distance. Eleanor heard cheering, and bright sunlight streamed in through a high window. She knew this was the last time she would hear her people cheering for a long time.

She checked her hair in the mirror. An elegant braid Twisted on one side of her head, leading into a bun that resembled a rose. The young daughter of the lord had spent painstakingly long on it. Today Eleanor had to make a good impression.

" is it alright, your highness?" she asked, glancing from behind Eleanor. The Queen smiled sweetly, and nodded her head.

She had no idea if the people here were just being courteous to her, or they were genuinely generous and kind. Then again, her subjects didn't know what she had done. The things that had to be done.

She got up from the chair she was sitting in, walking out of the room. Through the hallway her guards seemed to melt out of the shadows. They flanked her sides. Eleanor could almost imagine what people saw. A white, gold trimmed monarch in a flowing gown, guards that looked as if their armor was made by the Great King himself, parading through a humble village.

Not a Queen who had lost a war. Who was losing her country.

Out of the double doors, into the village streets they went. The people lined the cobble roads, and they cheered as she walked by. They threw colorful flowers, hands raised as the sun beamed over them. The village was a great reminder. The faded white bricks of the buildings, the dappled light that dwelled under the trees, the rolling green grasses all held one image: there was still beauty in this war ravaged country. It was what the people needed, what she needed to see.

Behind her walked the soldiers who were originally from this village. People wept as they saw them, some cheered. Eleanor saw an old woman get on her knees as a young man came and embraced her. She took a deep breath. She would not cry. No matter what she saw, not matter what they said.

They proceeded down the streets, to the humble church, white like all the other buildings. In the middle of the church courtyard was a carved wooden throne, decorated with white streamers and yellow flowers. The colors of their country. Eleanor inhaled sharply. Would they lose those, too?

A preacher stood to the side of the throne, clad in the normal brown robe. He held a book. A tiny boy beside him held her crown on a white pillow. She knew what was going to happen. She had done this over a million times, practicing for her crowning when she was young. She had only done it once before, with a real crown. Her actual crowning ceremony. Not whatever the king had thought up. She didn't know what the preacher was going to say, what she would have to agree to. But she would do it. Eleanor would go through the whole thing solemnly, smile when people cheered. That was what they needed, what she had been told to do.

She stood in front of the throne, facing the crowd. Eleanor raised her chin and looked straight ahead. The people looked at her, smiling faces in awe. Dozens Mithsos soldiers stood on the sides of the road, their purple and silver uniforms looking imposing and clashing with the scattered pastel colored flowers on the ground. She didn't see the King, but he was here. His plan had been executed wonderfully. He wouldn't miss a chance like this to view his victory.

The preacher started the long speech, the ruling oath. To her relief, it was all the same. Eleanor nodded her head regally as said yes, or I swear when she needed to, promising all the things a good ruler would do. Hold justice, have peace, be fair to all of her subjects no matter the background. All things she had done for the six long years of her reign. All she had strived to be. All that she could still hold onto, still try to create in her country.

" do you swear, under the eye of Mithsos, to be the best ruler your country, your people, need?" The priest said, his voice booming over the crowd. Eleanor saw the smiles fade, replaced with confusion, even fear. They had heard. Now they knew.

" I swear." she promised automatically. She didn't flinch as the preacher placed her golden crown atop her head, the twisting gold vines and crystal flowers merging matching her dress. The weight of the crown was a comfort, something she knew people would always look up to, always remember. The way she looked on this day.

Strong, even though her country was not.

Strong, even when she had lost so much.

Strong, even when everything she knew was ripped from her hands, and placed into another's.

Strong, even though her husband was dead.

Strong, even knowing she had to raise her unborn child in a world like this.

The Queen sat down. The people held her breaths. She closed her eyes, refusing the tears to come. When she heard the preacher's voice again, she opened them, taking a deep breath. She would stand, and she would be proud of these people. These wonderful, beautiful people who had lost so much, still to survive and want to make it to see the next sunrise.

" I present to you, Queen Eleanor Jacquelynne Alaistrayn of Telania!"

She rose, her people cheering as she stood her full height. In the distance, Eleanor saw the king on a balcony. His wife stood next to him. His devilish smile, clad in purple tunic and silver crown. His wife, holding his firstborn son, a chubby dark skinned toddler, not yet corrupted. Eleanor glared at them, refusing to break his stare as he clapped. The wife frowned, almost as is she was pitying Eleanor. Maybe she was. Eleanor did not know. She only knew that the king had taken their country and mangled it. A deformed mess was left behind.

Again, the people paraded her to a field. They had a feast, on long wooden tables. The villagers danced, and she sat on a regal chair adorned with flowers. They gave her gifts, kissed her hands. She received bouygues, journals, pieces of cut fabric, sweets. She received them with a smile, nodding and saying humble thanks.

There were people who were already whispering. Already eyeing her with distrust. Eleanor felt their stares from a mile away. She had thoroughly earned the hate she received.

The people danced, music played, far into the night. When the party was finally done, she saw a soldier approach her. Eleanor realized it was Zionus, her husband's best friend and general. He came, tears in his eyes, unshaved and messy, long hair.

Kneeling in front of her, she had a very hard time not getting down on the ground and hugging him.

" My Queen," he said, fixed on the grass in front of him. " is it really over?"

" Zionus," she frowned as he looked up at her " I fear it has only begun."