In the minutes and hours after the attempted ‘bombing’ as he first thought it to be, Prime Minister David Lloyd George was flung into action, however, in the ‘seconds’ after its ending, when the only screams were of the wounded and there were many screams to be had, he did not miss something else.

Queen Degurechaff was on top of one of the tables that had previously been toppled and was yelling directions left and right. Directing the soldiers to secure the area and how to sort the wounded.

“Put the gut shots over there! The bleeding is usually slower! They can wait until the medical teams get here! Neck and head wounds, treat on site but don’t linger over the dead! Tourniquets, apply them, mark them, and move them to the left of the gut shots! Don’t try to put any guts back inside the body, just rest them ‘on’ the torso and off the ground!” Queen Degurechaff’s voice carried above the chaos and brought order to a nightmare.

“You heard her!” He shouted whenever a soldier hesitated to follow the order of the foreigner, “Sort the wounded like she says!”

“And contain this scene! There might be a second attack, so get the civilians out of the damn way! Put them into the palace for all I care! Just clear them aside so they can get the ambulance in!” The Prime Minister was briefly appalled at the idea of commoners just… strolling through the palace, and yet at the same time…

It was so practical a solution that both confined them for questioning and protected them from potential harm while also keeping away any hidden threats, that it was worthy of an Albinian born and bred!

The handmaiden of the Queen was busy using her flight magic to bring the wounded down and sort them according to the Queen’s own orders, and when completed, she tilted tables over, picked up a rifle off of one of the dead soldiers, grabbed two grenades out of the coat pocket of one of the dead assailants, and positioned herself behind cover with a rifle pointed over the lawn, ready to fight.

“Come on you sluggards! Haven’t you ever seen a fighting position before! Are you going to let my lady in waiting defend the palace by herself!” Tanya’s shout pierced the fog of doubt and the soldiers in their bright red and blue regalia of formal guard uniforms rushed over to take positions at Visha’s left and right, leveling rifles outward while their comrades shepherded the civilians who remained behind, inside the palace to take cover.

The ambulance came screaming onto the lawn a few minutes later, its howling noise was almost needless in the face of the roaring engine that blared nearly as loud. The grass was torn up beneath the wheels as it came close, and the Prime Minister raced over to address them. “Over there! There are a lot of injured and dead, hurry!”

He quickly spilled the beans on what happened while several more ambulances came into view behind the first one, and just as he finished his story, the Queen approached and he watched as she gestured behind her. “We should be safe now, the dead are out of the way in one place, but the wounded don’t have lots of time, mostly gut shrapnel and tourniquets, but the worst have received immediate care. Hop to it.” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, and the white clad medics raced to follow her directions.

“My Queen, are you alright?” David asked, and she only nodded.

“I’m unhurt, this is nothing compared to the Rhine. But I should get cleaned up, handle the rest for me, the fighting is over. We need to find out who did this, and why.” It was a clear instruction, and it was hard to believe it came from a mere child. “Besides, if there is another attack, it’s coming for me and I’ll just get you all killed while they try to get me, I’d better go inside for now.”

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Of the civilians who remained, it was nothing but the press. Men with cameras snapping photos and rolling film to mark the historic event, and even now, the Prime Minister felt an ache in his gut that might as well have been shrapnel.

‘They’re going to have a field day with this.’ He thought while he slowly took over where the Queen left off. Security over the event. He wiped the sweat from his brow and approached the press.

“Prime Minister, how could this happen?!”

“Do you know anything?!”

“Why are there soldiers lined up on the lawn ready to fight, isn’t the attack over? Did you know this might happen?!”

The questions came on hard and fast and, in a strange way, David respected their rash courage and devotion to their work in the literal immediate aftermath of the violence that could have killed them as easily as anyone else.

“We don’t know anything yet, we didn’t know this was going to happen… all we know is that our people are hurt, and it could have been much, much worse… as for whatever else you want to know, let me say this, this one will be a day that truly goes down in infamy. A group of cowards and assassins attempted to murder a child. I don’t know what cause they fight for, whether it be one for men or gods… but no god I serve, makes war on children, if their’s does, then they must surely serve the devil himself. Now please, for your own safety, along with your equipment that recorded and immortalized this hour, go inside. Record from there if you have to. If there is a followup attack, we don’t want anyone else to die. Those were the Queen’s own words. That’s why she went inside, so that we might be safer.”

In retrospect, as the minutes passed by, he couldn’t be sure that she said exactly that, but it was true enough to the spirit. He paused and picked up the crown, it tumbled to the ground and was coated in mud, blood, and bits of grass. It had fallen and not even been seen, nor cared for.

His pride bucked up as dismay gave way to rage, the bloody, stained up crown was a symbol of his nation’s pride, soiled in his own hands by some unknown force. ‘Vile. Vile. Vile and unforgivable!’ He cried out in his head, in any other situation, with any other new monarch, he might have suspected the Empire was behind it.

But not this time. Nobody could reasonably spin this to the assumption that the Empire was behind the attack. Not when the new Queen was someone who was still one of their own people, more or less.

He made special note of the woman, Visha, ample breasted and with a bright, youthful, friendly face with stunning blue eyes, you would have thought her any other young woman. At first glance she looked, ‘Like any other fresh faced young girl, her head full of trite and insignificant things, waiting to be swept off her feet’ as the conservative party men might have said.

But if he ever entertained the thought, she disabused him of it by her quick and violent action, and her unflappable courage. “Visha… I think they can handle things here, we’re just in the way, perhaps you could follow the reporters inside, talk to them about the new Queen, I’m sure they’ll want a biography from someone who knew her. Something they can tell to the public to pair with this story.”

“I suppose so, but… do you think there’s time to eat first? I’m starving.” Visha answered, and blinked when he gawked at her. ‘Wait, she’s not joking, she’s serious?! She’d eat after… that?!’ He rubbed his temple with thumb and forefinger before answering…

“No… eat later. Handle them first, if you would please.” David exhaled. “You’ll pardon me, I need… I need to rest. Just for a few minutes.”

“Okay.” She said, and snatched a stray turkey leg that had somehow remained undisturbed on a table that hadn’t fallen in the chaos, and started to munch on it, tearing away the meat and reducing it to skin and bone long before they reached the entrance door that would take them inside the palace and… to whatever waited ahead.