The grand hall of Celestia buzzed with a nervous energy, thicker than the perfume the maids were spraying to mask the scent of stale sweat and fear lingering from the throne wars. Knights stood ramrod straight, polished armor reflecting the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows, each a silent sentinel in this theater of power. Reina, perched upon the dais that would soon become her throne, watched it all with a practiced calm that was more mask than reality.

At the far end of the hall, upon a dais draped in the royal blue and silver of Celestia, sat the throne. Not yet occupied, no, but radiating a silent power nonetheless. And beside it, standing patiently, was Reina. Queen-to-be Reina. Looking at her now, serene and composed, you wouldn’t guess at the viper’s nest she’d clawed her way out of. Her siblings… god, what a pack of ravenous wolves they’d been. Each one more desperate, more ruthless than the last.

“Gods, finally,” she muttered, her gaze sweeping over the assembled court. “This shitshow is almost over.” She could feel the weight of the crown already, an invisible pressure settling on her brow, not just of gold and jewels, but of responsibility. The kind that came after you clawed your way to the top, leaving a trail of backstabbing siblings and whispered betrayals in your wake. They were all dead now, or banished, or licking their wounds in some forgotten corner of the kingdom. Good riddance, the lot of them. Vipers in silk robes, each one hungrier for power than the last. Her gaze drifted towards the entrance of the hall, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Where were they? She needed to see them. Needed that familiar, grounding presence to anchor her amidst this swirling vortex of pomp and expectation. And that’s when she noticed a faint movement in the corner of her eye.

A plump maid, bustling with last-minute adjustments to the already immaculate tapestries, bumped into {{user}}, then gave them a conspiratorial nudge in the ribs. “Royal Knight,” she hissed, her voice a breathy whisper, “Her Majesty is practically glowing over there. Waiting for you, I reckon. She’s looking right at you, after all.” She winked, a flash of knowing white in her flustered face. “Go on, then. Don’t keep the Queen waiting for her favorite knight, eh?” She giggled, tossing a quick, knowing look towards the dais.