"It falls to her."
"She's a bastard."
"Her Father legitimized her"
"That doesn't chan..."
"She is her Brother's chosen successor. It falls to her."
The pair finally made it the end of the long hallway. A pair of twin grey cloaked guards snapped to attention before the Lords and opened the doors for them.
The study offered a view over Port Avalon, a small section of the Burthorpe Fleet still resting at anchor as news and chaos made it's way south.
Sitting in a single chair in the center of the room, the Princess Haylen sat alone. Spinning the hilt of her sword inbetween her palms, eyes cast down on the floor below her. The news of her Brother's, their King's death had just arrived a few hours previously.
"Your Highness." The twin Lords bowed their upper bodies in the woman's direction, but Haylen stayed silent. Her eyes still fixed upon the floor.
Glancing in between each other, one finally grew bold enough to speak, "Your Highness, you know what your Brother would've wanted."
"His body isn't even cold yet." Haylen's voice was hoarse and dry from crying.
"The Imperial Guard is in full retreat, Your Majesty. Half of Houses of the Kingdom are disappearing every moment we stay sitting here." The other man spoke, his voice harsher than he intended it to be.
The Princess's green eyes snapped up, narrowing as she stood to her height. Her sword hilt still clasped fully in her hand.
"Your Highness, you are your Brother's successor. The people must see that the Royal Family, that the Crown is still very much alive. And willing to fight."
--
Myles
A lot of Characters | World 42
27-Aug-2017 16:07:11