“You did what?” Aneira asked. Looking up from the ledgers that had been brought from the treasurer.

“It’ll make Starkon feel better about letting go of his kingdom to you.” Roskva said excitedly, bouncing up and down. “We have to go into the city anyway to order supplies for the party.” Aneira sighed and put down the paper. They sat back in the chair and closed their eyes.

“Roskva, I’m not going to make a spectacle of myself.” Aneira said finally. Sitting forward again. Looking back to the papers.

“Your majesty, may I interject?” Bellaire stepped forward. Shooting a wink at Roskva. Aneira frowned but sighed.

“You may.” They said.

“I think it isn’t a bad idea. You and your sister? Going about the city? Seeing how your subjects live?” Bellaire suggested. “How else will you know how to rule if you don’t see what you’re ruling?”

“The same way royals for thousands of years have.” Aneira snapped.

“And you think these traditions are worth keeping?” Bellaire shot back. “Shall we tell the staff when to clear the tables like animals again?” Aneira pursed their lips together, their nostrils flaring with frustration.

“Fine.” They conceded. “Might be nice to get out of the palace for a short time.”

“YES!” Roskva cheered as she sprang into the air. Aneira hid their smile and went back to the ledgers. Trying to make sense of the expenses.

“May I come in?” Starkon knocked on the open door as he entered.

“Does it matter?” Bellaire asked, Aneira rolled their eyes.

“Yes of course you can!” Roskva twirled. “We were just discussing our trip in the city tomorrow.”

“That’s wonderful. I was just thinking about the guest list.” Starkon strode into the room. “I’ve been brainstorming the royalty we simply must invite.”

“Have you talked to Roskva about who she wants to invite?” Aneira asked.

“That’s exactly why I’m here.” Starkon said, with a hint of annoyance in his voice. “To work on the guest list with you two.”

“Work quietly, I’m still making sense of these treasury notes.” Aneira said. Shifting around the letters and finally resorting to making notes on a new page.

“I would love to invite the Midgleys, they’ve done so much for us.” Roskva said to Starkon. “A few more of our neighbors too. They’ve always been there when we needed them.”

“I’ll see that they receive their invitations personally.” Starkon said flippantly. Moving to the desk and pulling out a paper from his pocket and placing it down on Aneira’s notes.

“Now the guest list I’ve drawn up has mostly local nobility. Lords, barons-”

“All your friends.” Bellaire muttered. Making Starkon glare at her.

“Could you please move?” Aneira asked icily.

“I thought you wanted to be a part of this?” Starkon asked,

“I am trying to be a part of this. I have to make a budget for Roskva’s gala but these financial statements are a mess.” Aneira snapped.”And you are all interrupting me!”

“Oh.” Roskva said, disappointment falling over her. “We can leave then.”

“Thank you.” Aneira said. Not looking up again as Roskva took Starkon’s arm and the two left the study.

“You know she just wants to be with you, right?” Bellaire asked.

“I do but I am trying to do something nice for her!” Aneira said exasperated. Throwing the paper down onto the table. Trying to ignore the chattering of voices all around them. The voices of all the disembodied people who’d died in the palace over the years. All demanding their attention.

“And I know she appreciates that but you make it seem like. Like you’re just putting up with her.” Bellaire struggled to find the right words to say. “I guess what I mean is it doesn’t seem selfless or done with love. It feels like you just want her gone… Do you?”

“No!” Aneira stood up but their second thoughts plagued them. “Yes? No. I.” Aneira sighed and fell back into their chair.

“I don’t know.” They said finally, holding their head. “I want her to be happy. To be taken care of and happy.”

“So why not take care of her and make her happy?” Bellaire asked. “She’s your sister, it can’t be that hard.”

“You don’t understand.” Aneira said. “Just go away. I. Go.” Bellaire sighed but nodded.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“As you wish, your highness.” Lady Callafon said monotonously with a bow. Aneira held their breath until the noblewoman was out of the room. Then they let it go. They moved aside the financial statements to look at the real piece of stressful news.

Reports of undead rising and wandering throughout the countryside. Graveyards completely overrun and people in a panic over the dead and dying.

“Please meet with the queen in the study, she wishes to speak to you.” A disembodied voice said. Along with the chorus of ghosts claiming you can’t deny the queen and you must do as she says.

“There is no need.”

Aneira stood as a woman not nearly as old as Aneira expected walked through the study doors. Even pale and ghostly she was beautiful. Her hair is done perfectly but spectral white. Wearing a royal ballgown that jingled as she moved. Upon her head a silver crown. Aneira felt the room go cold. The past Queen stared at her and Aneira felt frozen in place. The ground crackling as ice formed under their feet.

“What is it?!” Lady Callafon burst through the doors dispelling the Queen’s ghostly visage for a second.

“Gather Roskva and tell her there’s no time like the present. We’re going into the city.” Aneira commanded as they stormed past Bellaire and out of the study.

The city bustled around with life. But it stopped instantly seeing the open carriage with Roskva and Aneira sitting in it. Bellaire and Starkon rode white stallions just behind and the captain of the Wolves and his men marched along beside. Word traveled fast through the kingdom of the discovery of the true heir and everyone was eager to see Aneira. Decorated with an heir apparent tiara instead of a King’s crown.

The carriage had a chest within of coins for every denomination. A ledger and the event coordinator sitting across from them in the carriage going over all the necessary items for the gala.

“Such short notice we’ll be busy for days but with a few pages sent off to the surrounding farms the day before we should have enough food and flowers for the gala.” The coordinator said. Checking off her checklist. “In the interim, let’s go to the dressmaker’s and pick out the gowns for yourselves. After that we can visit bakers for tastings. If we have time after that we can look for some painters and solagraphers for the event.”

“Solagraphs?!” Roskva squealed and clapped her hands. “I’ve never seen a solagraph before!”

“Yes, they are catching on here in the cities.” The coordinator said. “That might be all we can fit into an afternoon however. That includes grabbing a quick bite to eat locally.”

“This is going to be the best day ever!” Roskva said, looking at their sibling. Aneira stared out of the carriage. Scrutinizing the sidewalks.

“These roads are covered in litter.” They said finally. “It’s abysmal. I need a page.” The coordinator looked around in a panic.

“Page?!” She called and a boy ran up along side the carriage. Running to keep pace.

“Wh? Stop the carriage!” Aneira called and the procession came to a halt. They got out of the carriage to stand beside the boy. “I need you to start a list for me.”

“Yes sir.” The boy said and produced a writing tablet and pen.

“Aneira, I don’t think-” Roskva tried to speak but Starkon rode up first.

“Why have we stopped?” He asked. “Something not to your majesty’s liking?”

“As a matter of fact.” Aneira said dryly. “First item. Create a faction whose job it is to clean the streets.”

“What’s wrong with the streets?” Starkon asked. “We’re in a city, the streets are always a little dirty.”

“Do they have to be?” Aneira asked. Starkon pursed his lips in muted anger.

“A shop! Let’s go in!” Roskva said. Rushing past Aneira and beckoning them to follow her in. Aneira slowly dropped eye contact with Starkon and went into the general store. Roskva was completely enamored by the homemade objects and knick knacks on the counters and shelves. Aneira, however, was preoccupied by the barrels of food product and the lingering smell of something rotting.

“Sir?” Aneira asked the man behind the shop counter. He stood up straight and then attempted a bow.

“Your very highly esteemed majesty.” He said. Fighting with himself over his word choice. “A pleasure for you to come and join us here in my store.”

“Thank you. I find your wares mostly acceptable.” Aneira said. Pale panic flooded the shopkeepers face.

“Mostly acceptable!? I assure your majesty, we get all our goods fresh from the gardens! Once at the beginning of the week!” The shopkeeper pleaded.

“I have no doubt of this. But I notice there’s something that seems to be moving in your barrels.” Aneira pointed out. The shopkeeper sputtered and turned bright red.

“It’s summer and-”

“Please, you have no reason to explain. I’m sure this is how business is conducted in every store in the city?” Aneira held up a hand to stop the shopkeer’s list of excuses. They turned to Starkon watching from the doorway. They turned back to the shopkeeper. “I don’t mean to pry but you’ve got a child on death’s riverbank, do you not?” The shopkeeper’s blush vanished as true fear filled his eyes.

“Little Olivia. Yes. She’s. How did you?” The shopkeeper couldn’t decide what to ask first so all his questions came out all at once.

“She’s got the slow fever?” Aneira asked. Roskva had wandered back to the counter now.

“That’s what the doctor said.” The shopkeeper agreed in awe. “Said she’s.” He paused as he was overcome with emotion.

“Said she was crossing the river.” Aneira finished slowly. “Are cases of slow fever common here?”

“They are.” The page, still following Aneira, said mystified.

“I had a feeling.” Aneira said with a nod. They turned back to the shopkeeper. “Take fresh oats. I don’t mean any from any barrel. Fresh ones. Roast them in your oven until they are crisp and golden brown. Serve with pasteurized milk three times a day and as your child improves introduce soups and broths.”

“Improve? Yes! Yes I will!” The shopkeeper stumbled, knocking things over. “Give me a second, I have to write that all down.”

“Take your time.” Aneira nodded, and they turned back to the page. “Second item, inspect food quality and find a solution to the current food poisoning epidemic.”

“May I ask a question?” The page asked, dutifully writing.

“You may.”

“Did you come from somewhere that doesn’t have slow fever?” the page asked.

“I grew up in the mountains on a farm. Of course we had slow fever. But we got it from not properly pasteurizing our milk and eggs. Hence why I know how to help it.” Aneira explained, taking on a softer tone. The page nodded and kept writing.

“What are you writing now?” Aneira asked.

“That instruction for my mum.” The page said shyly. “My baby brother has slow fever too.”

“I see.” Aneira sighed. “When you’ve finished that, third item; summon and have a meeting with all the city’s physicians and treat the slow fever pandemic.”

“Got it.” The page nodded.