Snippet #2732802

My mother is dead...

Cassandra sat upon the uncomfortable golden throne of the castle throne room, struggling to wrap her head around what had transpired in the last two days. Her mother, the Queen of this land, had died. It had been sudden and unexpected - the work of an assassin. Somebody who was clearly skilled and obviously knew what they were doing. With no ruler, the guards and servants had turned to Cassandra, asking her to take her new position as Queen.

The seat felt foreign beneath her and she was continually shifting positions. In the time since she'd become Queen of Fantasim Land, she'd been presented with at least a dozen questions from her staff. Her mother had kept no advisors, but Cassandra longed to have an advisor of her own, somebody who actually knew a thing or two about how to rule. All Cassandra knew was what her mother had taught her: be cruel, be harsh, and make sure they know who's in charge.

That turned out well for her, though...

Cassandra's pale fingers curled around the arm of the throne. She could feel her leg quivering, and she was certain that the guards were eyeing her suspiciously. There were two guards present in the throne room at all times, watching over her and protecting the entrance to her chambers. They had been her mother's chambers before her, and she'd slept in a room elsewhere in the castle, but since becoming Queen, they'd become her chambers. They felt just as foreign and unfamiliar to her as the throne did - in fact, her chambers almost felt forbidden. Her mother's clothes were still in the closet, though she and the servants were working on emptying the closet a little at a time, making space for Cassandra's own clothing.

Now, there was nothing for her to do but sit. She could order the guards and servants around, but there was nothing she wanted or needed. She was still trying to get settled in her new role, and not quite comfortable asking large favours of her staff. It still seemed odd to call them her staff, even, but they were. These people worked for her in her castle. They were meant to guard and protect her, and to serve her. She'd grown up with them around, so why did they feel like strangers to her? And the people of the Kingdom, they were even more like strangers to her. She didn't meet with the people, didn't socialize with them.

All she knew about her people and the kingdom was what her mother and grandmother had taught her: the people are there to serve you, and the people don't matter. She wasn't meant to care about them or their lives. They would come to her when they had problems, she was told, but their problems weren't supposed to be important to her, and she wasn't expected to fix things in the city. None had come, though, so she hadn't yet really had the opportunity to gauge just what kinds of problems they would bring before her.