The Queen of Stones

Chapter 3

The clock strikes 10 am and I get up to attend to the privy council meeting, that takes place every day in the meeting room. I reach for my folder and leave the room. After taking three steps, I come back and address my guard.

"Can you make sure that the king is on his way to the privy council meeting?" I ask.

"Of course, Your Majesty," he answers while slightly bowing. "I will take care of that personally."

I turn around and keep walking. This was the right thing to do. Remind Davi about the meeting, since he is usually late.

In my opinion, the privy council meetings are the most important part of being a queen and, because of that, the most difficult. The environment was suffocating, I felt watched and judged during ever second, making me want to cut them short. However, Asteria is not going to rule itself.

As I walk into the meeting room, a long room made entirely of white marble with a long table at the middle, containing one chair for each duke and one, at the head of the table, for me; in the ceiling, an enormous golden chandelier contrasted with the marble. As I walk in, the four dukes, who were already in their places, get up and bow to me, sitting back right after. I take my seat.

"Your Majesty needs to see this," Sebastian Coldwell says, placing a newspaper in front of me with his chubby hand.

The first thing I notice is the headline that screams 'The war continues, and the queen does nothing'. I press my lips together. The picture under it was taken yesterday, when I went to the capital of New Royale, Aridell, for the opening of the Naming Season. On the first page of the newspaper you could see me, in the center, and Davi, positioned in the back, being only possible to see his face. However, that was not the problem with the picture. Even though my posture and my dress were fit for a queen, my face wasn't. I looked vile, with shifty eyes and a wicked closed mouth smile. I sigh.

I remember how nervous I was yesterday, assuming that the worst would happen. Every time I have to go to town and see the population, I freeze. In the palace, even when I know that the public opinion is not in my favor, I can pretend that they don't exist, I can pretend that there is no one criticizing my every decision. But, in front of them, I can't. Yesterday, I could see them whispering to each other and laughing, judging me. All I wanted to do was go back into the palace and crawl into bed, but I couldn't, so I looked their way and forced a smile. Now, the result of that starred at me. And I hate it.

I try to focus while I read the article. It talks, in a highly critical way, about how I have taken no actions to stop the war, even questioning if I am worried about the people that are dying in the front line and all the life's that are being affected by this conflict.

"What do we do about this?" I ask the council, hoping they would have a solution ready.

"End the war?" Ernest Van Coren says ironically while scratching his light circle beard.

"I am serious," I enforce angry, making him look down.

"We could issue a statement declaring that every newspaper has to be approved by the crown before being published," Allerick Grinald suggests.

"I won't take away their freedom of speech," I state, knowing that this could lead to terrible consequences.

"For the sake of the stones, just kill the man that wrote the article and let's move on to a different topic," Alastair Bonavich says leaning forward. "Have you considered the marriage between my daughter and Apollo Van Coren? You have been sitting on this document for over three weeks. Are you incapable of making a simple decision?"

I sigh and roll my eyes, then look at the tiny x embroidered in Bonavich's blazer. Bonavich is the oldest of the privy council members, probably reaching his fifties. He is always well dressed and, even though he had wrinkles and grey hair, I could see that, in his youth, he was a handsome man. However, he is also a very greedy man, who is always looking for more power and money, with no regard for other people's lives.