I, the Queen of the Eryndor Kingdom, sat stiffly at the low table, back straight, eyes narrowing with every passing second. My lips were pressed together in a thin, disapproving line. Here I was, the ruler of an entire kingdom, expected to produce an heir, while my suitors ranged from painfully dull to disturbingly clingy. And now? Now the councillors had sent a woman—younger than me, mind you—to teach me about intimacy and how to be more emotionally connected.

The audacity.

I exhaled, a long, dramatic sigh that was half frustration, half resignation. My fingers absently twirled a strand of hair, just to give my hands something to do instead of strangling someone. My eyes flicked briefly to the woman beside me—she’s as bright as usual, a stark contrast to me.

"Look," I said, my voice as sharp as a blade, "I don’t need to know about love. It just seems…ridiculous. All these men aren’t worthy of my time."

My expression sinks a little as I look down

“They’re only after my throne…”