“I look ridiculous…” The mirror mocks me, reflecting my awkward demeanor in a ballgown. The dress was too much on the hanger, and it is even more horrifying on. No amount of fine silk can mask who I really am; a knight soon to be Queen.

“You look beautiful, your highness. Like a queen!” I could tell my advisor was genuine, but the longer I looked at myself in the layers of red fabric, the longer I felt like I was going to be sick. Alva came highly recommended among the local nobility, so she would know about these things better than I do. She assured me that this style was the height of fashion, and I have no reason to not believe her. However, I question why society would accept such uncomfortable clothing as ‘fashion-forward.’ 

“What if I am attacked? How am I to defend myself when I can’t even see my feet!” Alva and surrounded servants chuckled at the urgency in my tone. Clearly, it is not something they have had to think about in their day-to-day lives. “What is so funny?” I say agitated, a small vein pulsing in my temple.

Clearing her throat, Alva collected herself. “Nothing your Majesty, just that old habits die hard it seems... You were raised on the battlefield, but today you are to become a queen. You need to think differently, act differently.” Taking her portable quill, Alva brushes the soft feathery tip along my shoulders. “You must be graceful, poised, and most importantly be socially conscious of your political engagements…” She looks at the dress, admiring her fashion choice. “This dress will be what you greet the people of Xosta in as their Queen. It is important to make a good first- wait what are you doing?”

As Alva rambled I imagine a thousand different ways to destroy this forsaken garment. During my daydream, I contemplated fire, scissors, and even slashes of a sword. As I came to a plan in my mind I found my hands gripped to the front area of the skirt. Then like a knife through butter, I ripped the skirt down to the hem.

“No! What have you done?!” Alva was flushed with panic. “There is no time to make a new gown! I feel faint!” My advisor started to breathe in and out with haste, as she leaned against the wall for balance. While she found amusement in me, I now find amusement in her as I bite my lip trying not to release laughter. I do enjoy giving her a hard time.

“Don’t be so dramatic…” I say dismissively. “I want this area open so I can walk comfortably. The seamstress should be able to fix the torn edges.”

Alva was beside herself. “But your highness, your entire… er-delicate area is exposed…” I couldn’t resist the laughter any longer as Alva struggled with that last sentence.

“Ha! I’ll just have to wear pants then won’t I.” We have been arguing for months on my ‘pants’ stance. I never cared for dresses, and just seeing myself in this current state reaffirms this. Now that my dress is ripped, I will have no other option than to go with my plans.

“You schemed this from the very beginning didn’t you…” Alva was displeased, but she was stuck with me whether she liked it or not. 

“Perhaps.” I shrug my shoulders. “You should call the seamstress now rather than later, I don’t want to be late for my Coronation.”

With a snap of her fingers, my advisor sent one of the servants to retrieve someone to fix my gown. With her fingers, she took the fabric assessing the damage. “You are lucky the tear was so smooth.” Her brow jolted as she grazed the fread edges. I am sure she planned for things to go wrong, but I am sure a new dress was not scheduled in her alternative planner. “You just had to go off-book, didn't you?” Her mumble was in vain as I could hear her clear as day. 

“I am different from any ruler in Xosta’s history… Get used to going ‘off book’’' Alva scoffed walking away from the dress to her list of tasks to complete for the ceremony.

My sudden coming into power has been not only an adjustment for me, but the entire kingdom. For years my father ruled with an iron fist, over-taxing his people, growing his armies to conquer other lands, and desperately pursuing a male heir. 

He would force my mother to drink a potion that would kill the fetus if they were female to ensure his wife would bear only sons. I was never supposed to be born... but thanks to my mother’s protection, and my twin brother Galleren, my life was spared. The potion was neutralized by my brother's presence in utero, allowing me protection from it’s poison.

It was with my brother’s help, that I was able to join forces with the sansperpant people to take back Xosta for my own. However, we did not come out of the battle unscathed. Just before I had the pleasure of slicing my father’s throat, he forced my brother’s pregnant wife to drink the toxic potion he used on my mother. The bastard… As a master in potions I swore to Ariella that I would find a cure, before it was too late. The effect of the poison doesn’t take hold till labor, which gives me about seven months to create an antidote. If not their first child could be lost. 

“Have you thought about your speech, your grace?” Alva’s nagging tone pulled me back to the present.

“Yes,” I nod.  Looking at her elevated brow and eye roll, she was probably looking for something more detailed. “Do you have something written? I think it would be best to have something to read from, just in case your nerves get the best of you.”

As Alva begins to write on her parchment, I can see a vague outline of a speech forming. “I have faced ever foe imaginable... I don't get nervous.” She didn’t seem to care about what I had to say, continuing to write down her thoughts.

“Well it doesn’t hurt to have it. Better be safe than sorry I always say.” When the sound of the door opening came through the room, Alva nearly jumped for joy. “Ah! Seamstress! Thank goodness!” Dropping her quill my advisor rushes to my side, pointing out the flaws of the gown. “We need these hems touched up, and make sure to keep the front open. Her majesty will be wearing- pants.” I could hear the pain in her voice as she uttered that last word. Who knew pants could be such a source of conflict. I suppose more nobels wouldn't be caught dead in anything other than a dress, but I am not most nobles.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

While the seamstress was perplexed by the new fittings, she did not question her soon to be queen’s request. One of the former king’s commands was to restrict the servants from speaking with any of the members of royalty. While I have lifted the restriction, some have continued to keep silent while in my presence. As the seamstress worked quietly on my gown, I admired the care and craftsmanship that she took. Every push and pull of the needle and thread was thought out carefully, it is mesmerizing to watch.

“My lady, please read this.” Alva brought me her parchment holding it high to my eye level. “The ink is still wet so do not touch it.” After glancing through it briefly, I turn away. “Looks good.” 

Alva gave me a skeptical glare. “With all due respect to your grace, did you even read it? I think that-”

“I read enough. I trust your judgment.” My advisor sighed in defeat. “Fine…” I am not one for words, for the longest time, I barely spoke in an effort to maintain my cover working in my father's reign. I think that Alva is more qualified to give a speech than I. 

Suddenly there is a soft knock at the door. One of the event servants steps in the door but does not fully enter the room. She leans forward motioning for Alva, making sure not to look me in the eye. Another silent servant…

With haste my advisor goes to the new visitor, leaning in her ear as she whispers a message out of my hearing. “What?!” Alva gasped. “We will be there at once!” In an urgent rush, Alva started to gather her things in the room, making sure everything was accounted for. “We need to finish the alteration now! The ceremony is about to begin!”

 ※

The last time I was in this room was for my brother’s wedding. I had no idea that their union would lead to this day. Ariella and Ren were just two strangers, now they rule over Theora and have a child on the way. This hall has seen many weddings and coronations, and now it is my time to take my oath, and swear my allegiance to Xosta and the people. Much like Galleren’s wedding, the room is packed with nobles, all dressed in fine clothes and jewels. The strong stone pillars tower high, holding the arched ceiling from collapse. A bright red runner lines the aisle leading to the royal throne, where I will take my vows. 

Awaiting my arrival is a judge who will perform the ceremony, and create a signed document for the historian’s records. His long black robes and tall hat show his authority and significance to the crowd, and soon my crown will outrank it. Next to him is a tall golden table, with a red velvet cloak with white trim, and the ever awe-inspiring royal crown of Xosta. The encrusted jewels are just as remembered, the gold metal glistening in the light calls to me from afar. 

Walking down the aisle was easy, but the sight of the people on me was more difficult than I had anticipated. Some of their glares felt like daggers, cutting their judgments onto me. I knew coming into this that not everyone would be accepting of me, and I am sure my bold fashion statement does not help matters. I will have to earn their trust over time, however, I can’t help but to feel the pressure of disappointing them. 

Approaching the red cushioned throne I keep my head high, as Alva adjusts the train of my dress accordingly. Once I take my seat, I watch as everyone in attendance follows in a wave. I swallow hard taking in the amount of people before me. The two hundred or so eyes here are just the beginning. When I make my first address to the entire Kingdom, there will be thousands. My breath staggers thinking about it.

The judge brings my attention back to the present, as he begins to read from his scroll. “We are gathered here today, to witness history. As Xosta’s next monarch is about to take their vows, pledging their allegiance to their people.” His voice belows, projecting to even the last pair of ears in the back of the hall. He turns to me, and continues. “Madam, is your Majesty willing to take the oath?”

“I am willing,” I reply. I am ready…

The judge nodes. “Will you solemnly promise to govern the people of Xosta, and to your power cause law and justice to be executed?”

I took a moment to take in the words, holding their power before I utter the words, “I promise to do so.”

“And do you intend to lead the Kingdom of Xosta to a brighter future, maintain its laws and... traditions.” The judge’s emphasis on ‘traditions’ was clear. While I didn’t remember reading that word in the oath beforehand, I did not want to protest publicly against such a simple request… “I do.”

The dark robbed judge smiles at my compliance, then slowly makes his way to the table of royal accessories. Taking the robe he carefully raps it around my shoulders. “With this robe, I adorn you in righteousness and wisdom. May you take it with you for every day of your reign.” The cloth was soft to the touch, as it warms my shoulders. I close my eyes taking in all of the knowledge that every King has had before me, and a light flares in my heart knowing how proud my mother would be of me. May she rest in peace… 

Now comes the moment we have all been waiting for, when I wear that crown, I will officially begin my reign as the first Queen of Xosta. As the judge takes the bright glowing circlet, time seems to stand still, as my last moments as a knight come to a close and a new chapter of my life unfolds. As the cool touch of the gold is placed on my head, my father’s final words ring in my ear, ‘They will never accept a Queen without a King’ I subconsciously clench my hands into a fist. My father has taken so much from me already, I will not let him spoil this moment now. 

“With this crown, I pass on the power and authority of the Xosta monarchy to you. May it bring you honor and glory for all your days to come.” The judge took a step back and bowed to his Queen in respect. “People of Xosta, rise! I present to you your new ruler! Queen Esteve! Long may she reign!” 

The crowd cheered and clapped as they stood from their seats with joy. The halls echoed in the rejoices of the people, filling my heart with a fullness that is hard to put to words. This was the moment I have worked for my entire life. Never have I felt so… complete. I walked out of the hall through the cheering audience as a proud new Queen, with Alva right behind me. I did it, I am Queen of Xosta! My father must be turning in his grave. My proud demeanor shone through as I made my graceful exit.

“The people have already gathered in front of the palace for your first address.” Alva said shuffling through her written cards for my speech. Carefully she scanned through her words, looking for errors or areas of improvement. Her commitment to detail is astounding. The closer we are to the castle gates the louder I can hear the people awaiting my arrival. The multitude of voices sent an unexpected pit into my stomach. All of those people… my people. Are here to see me… I knew the weight the crown would give me, but I wasn’t expecting to be this nervous for my speech. It is such a small task, so why is it affecting me so?

“Your Majesty! Are you well? You look pale.” My observant advisor snapped her fingers at the nearest servant. “You! Go fetch the Queen a glass of water!” Within an instant, a goblet of water was in my grasp. Pressing the cool brass to my lips, I consume the liquid letting the hydration flush out my anxiety. “You will do just fine. Smile, wave, and read your cards.” Alva handed me my speech with a confident smile. Smile, wave, and read the cards… What could go wrong?