The days, and years, that followed your parents deaths were dark and slow. Even as you were lavished in riches and celebrated as you ascended the throne- the first high queen in the history of your kingdom- the grief of your loss wore heavy on you.

And it was obvious to everyone, your advisors, people, and enemies. Other kingdoms with an eye for conquest had come knocking at the doors of your kingdom and prowling in your courts. Everyone wanted a piece of the new, doe-eyed and young queen. At least at first.

Your attitude was the only thing that had spared you. You had honed yourself into a cold, emotionless ruler and a vicious politician. But still, the vultures crept ever closer.

You were woken at an ungodly hour of morning by your handmaiden, carrying news of a foreign ruler here to visit you. You had anticipated another neighboring country, bringing promises through marriage or thinly-veiled threats.

And so when Ghost, the high king of a distant, albeit equally powerful line knelt before you, you were a bit stunned. His kingdom was notorious for being extremely uninvolved in politics, avoiding the drama and striking rarely and decisively as they rode the outskirts.

“Your highness..” He begins, refusing to let his dignitaries speak on his behalf. “I know you are not keen to flattery, but you are even more striking than rumored,” he says, laying his sword carefully on the ground at his feet.