Azareth was sitting in her room, she had a piece of paper in front of her on her desk. It was late in the evening, the sun was long gone over the horizon. She was tapping her pencil on the desk, not sure how to word what she needed to write. It was an important letter, yet no words were coming to her. She was in her nightgown and robe, just staring out the window over her kingdom. She was thinking about tomorrow’s event, the coronation. She was nervous, but she couldn’t refuse. If she wasn’t the queen, the royal bloodline would disappear and her kingdom lost.

“Your majesty?” Midrina said as she knocked on the door and came into the room. She turned to see Azareth was sitting at the desk. She made her way into the room to prepare it for the night.

“Good evening,” Azareth said. She stuck the end of the pencil in her mouth and bit down on the end of it.

“You are still up, I thought I’d have to tiptoe around the room,” Midrina said. She laughed lightly going over to the bed and adjusting the blankets. As Midrina puttered around the room, Azareth sighed and tapped her foot on the floor.

“Midrina, did you ever help my father compose letters?” Azareth asked. Midrina stopped and looked over her shoulder at Azareth.

“Of course, why?”

“I realized that the treaty between Berlar and Truffween needs to be amended to fit me as the queen. I have to inform King Halamar of past events leading up to my coronation. I also need to ask him to agree to keep the treaty standing for our protection.”

“It isn’t easy running a kingdom, I watched your mother and father do it for decades. The pressure can be crushing. Your parents found having trusted advisors to talk to helped a great deal.” Midrina walked over to the desk and looked down at the blank piece of paper.

“I know who I plan to ask to be my advisors,” Azareth said. Midrina rested her hand on Azareth’s shoulder, then took the pencil out of her hand.

“Would you like a hand?”

“Oh, please,” Azareth said standing up out of the chair. Midrina sat down and wrote on the paper.

“To King Halamar,” Midrina said. “That is a very good start, what else should we tell him?” Azareth paced around the room for a minute thinking to herself.

“Tragedy has struck Berlar, King Andrion has been murdered. He travelled to an unknown kingdom to the east of our lands. As his only heir, I am assuming the throne and I am asking for Truffween’s support if needed. I’d like to keep the treaty between our kingdoms if either shall struggle, the other shall help. I look forward to your response, Queen Azareth Yutrit.”

“Very well worded, I am sure King Halamar will respect the treaty between the kingdoms.”

“I hope,” Azareth said, taking her robe off and draping it over the chair. She walked over to her bed, while Midrina folded the letter up. “Can you send it off in the morning?”

“Of course your majesty,” Midrina said. As she left the room closing the door behind her, Azareth said goodnight and climbed into bed. It was dark in the room, Azareth pulled her blanket high over her shoulders. She sighed as she closed her eyes, the silence in the room deafening. She missed the others, hearing them breathe and snore. She had grown used to sleeping near them. Now she had this whole room to herself, in a still unfamiliar home.

Azareth was awake early, Midrina was helping her prepare for the coronation. It wasn’t something that happened often, so the whole kingdom was abuzz with excitement. Azareth was wearing a red off-the-shoulder gown. The caller of her dress was embroidered with gold flowers. The sleeves hung open down at her sides, small golden flowers were sewn into the cuffs. Her hair was pulled back out of her face and hung down her back. Midrina was fussing over the smallest details, trying to perfect everything.

“Midrina, enough,” Azareth said. “You can’t possibly change anything else, it looks great.”

“I’m just trying to make it perfect,” she said, fanning out the train of the dress for the fourth time. Azareth sighed and turned to leave the bedroom. Midrina followed her, fussing and poking at her dress.

“Midrina,” Azareth warned her. “You need to go down to the throne room now. I will follow and wait outside.”

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“You remember your cue?”

“Yes, now go, before you get locked out.” Midrina gasped and turned to run down the hallway. Azareth laughed and slowly made her way down to the throne room. She stood outside the doors, inside would be nearly the whole kingdom. Mainly those who were important to the kingdom, but there were still so many people.

As the music began to play, the doors to the throne room opened. Azareth turned to face the doors, taking deep breaths. She saw dozens of faces turn to face her, a long walkway in front of her down to the end of the throne room. On each side, chairs were placed in rows for the people to sit and watch. Everyone was standing as Azareth began to walk down the aisle towards the priest at the end. He was going to perform the ceremony since her father wasn’t there to be the one to pass on the throne.

As Azareth glanced around the room, she saw Jurah and Artibain standing at the front of the crowd. She relaxed, feeling relieved when she locked eyes with Jurah. She looked to see the banner of her family was hung around the room. Her family crest, a red and gold shield with a white dragon in the center. The royal family saying was on the top “Let Flames Burn Bright”, Azareth felt a small warmth fill her as she knelt down in front of the priest. She looked at the bottom of the crest and saw her parents' last name, Ignis. She was still unclear if she wanted to go by that name.

The priest was talking, but Azareth wasn’t fully listening. She looked up at the portrait of her parents. She finally knew where her looks came from, she was a perfect blend of both of them. Her father’s dark hair, her mother’s golden eyes and soft jawline. She looked down at the floor, her mind rushing, her heart pounding. How was she going to do this? Azareth felt the priest’s hand on the top of her head. Azareth blinked a few times and looked up at the priest.

“Do you, Azareth, swear to uphold the laws, values and traditions of Berlar?” He asked. Azareth looked into his eyes and nodded her head.

“I do,” Azareth said.

“Do you swear to protect and serve the people of Berlar for as long you shall reign?”

“I do.”

“Do you swear to rule with a just and merciful hand?”

“I do.” The priest turned and picked up the crown off a velvet pillow. Azareth glanced at the crown stunned by the shine of it. The golden crown had red gems in each peak, it was so delicately forged.

“By the power of the lords of old, I crown thee Queen Azareth of Berlar,” the priest said. He placed the crown gently on Azareth’s head, gave her his hand and helped her stand up. Azareth turned to face the large crown and looked around the room. Her head felt heavy, she moved slowly afraid she would shake the crown off her head.

“Long live the queen,” the priest cheered.

“Long live the queen!” Erupted the crowd. Everyone cheered, Azareth smiled weakly as she looked around the room. Her eyes stopped when she saw Captain Sansun. He stood in the back of the room, frozen with a blank stare. She blinked as the crowd was escorted to the ballroom, where the celebration was to begin shortly. Azareth stepped down to see Jurah and Artibain, they walked towards her.

“You did it, you are finally queen,” Jurah said. Azareth smiled and looked at them both.

“I wanted to thank you for all your support,” Azareth said. They smiled at her, blush creeping up on their cheeks. “I wanted to ask you both if you’d like to stay here in Berlar and be my advisors.”

“Your advisors?” Artibain asked. He glanced to see Jurah was looking just as confused as he felt.

“I know it is a lot to ask, but we have been through so much together.” Azareth looked at the floor and up at the men in front of her. “I can’t do this without you, you both have helped me and I still need that help.”

“Azareth,” Jurah started and Azareth sighed.

“I know, this isn’t your home. If you want to leave, you are free to go. I was just hoping that I wouldn’t have to say goodbye to you.” She turned away from them, feeling tears sting in her eyes.

“I was going to say, I’d be honoured to be your advisor,” Jurah said. He took Azareth’s hand and she turned around to look at him. Artibain cleared his throat.

“I don’t have a home to go back to, if you’d have me I’d be honoured as well to help you in any way I can,” Artibain said. Azareth smiled and pulled them both into her arms, blinking the tears away. The men hugged her back, they felt better knowing she wanted them there.

“Now, we have to go, there’s a ball in your honour,” Jurah said. Azareth nodded but stopped when she remembered Captain Sansun.

“He didn’t cheer,” Azareth said, her voice barely audible.

“Who didn’t cheer?” Artibain asked.

“Captain Sansun,” Azareth said. “He was standing at the back of the room, blank face and staring at me.”

“That isn’t normal,” Artibain said. Jurah sighed and shook his head.

“It’s not,” Jurah said. “We’re going to have to keep an eye on him.” Azareth was thinking, then looked up.

“Artibain, I need to ask you a favour,” Azareth said. “You aren’t going to like it.”

“I’m afraid to ask, what favour?” Artibain asked. Azareth took a step forward and grabbed Artibain’s hands in hers.

“I need you to go and scout the unknown kingdom.”