The Queen and the Huntsman

My father was a good king. At least it appeared so from my standing which probably wasn't saying much as I was his only child. The kingdom had always prospered during his reign as far as I knew. However, as good of a ruler he was, he was not a loving father. The only times I ever saw him were at parties or when he popped in every few months to check on my training. The only words I remember him telling me were not words of encouragement.

"You should probably keep that pretty little mouth shut when political matters are discussed; you would do better to learn from the men than indulge them with petty qualms."

"You shouldn't be so mean towards the soldiers. They were merely jesting of your womanhood."

"There's no use crying about it."

The last one he said to me the day Mother died. He repeated the same words as the years wore on, but the time I heard it last was while he was on his deathbed.

I have never cried since.

The next day I was coronated.