Minul rose to awareness in a slow drift becoming aware of the warmth under her covers, then the chill on her arm outside them. The scents in her room, incense, a habit she’d picked up in Ankiria, filled the room with lavender, undertones of sweat and something else she couldn’t quite place. Fire smoke?

Then she became aware of the noises coming from outside the room. Sounded like scrubbing. Finally, her eyes opened almost reluctant to leave sleep. Her bedroom was dominated by her lush bed. At first, she’d resisted her majordomo’s insistence that she needed this bed, but after sleeping in it for a few days she’d been unwilling to fight her anymore.

Minul sighed and pulled her arm under the covers, letting it heat up. She didn’t like it when her bedroom got too warm, but in the winter she usually managed to never be quite comfortable.

Lying under her covers, the Queen considered her day. There was a finance meeting with the Master of Coins, which she didn’t look forward to. The woman grabbed onto every coin and object of value with fingers strong enough to bend iron. Getting the needed funds from her was like wrestling a bear, in water, while upside down, and falling.

After that she would have another strategy meeting about Inaaya, with Saif, Leif. Minul wished she could just have her killed. There was nothing anyone could do to stop her before it was too late. Neither Ankiria, nor Inaaya’s father would approve of it, however, and she wasn’t prepared to pay the consequences for it. Not yet.

She groaned rubbing at her face. On days like this, she understood her mother all too well. On days like these, Minul wanted to go out and enjoy the winter away from her duties and responsibilities but she couldn’t afford that. Not yet, at least. Hopefully, one day she would’ve set up a strong enough rule that she could take a few weeks off to enjoy her winter home.

Being a Queen isn’t easy, but it’s not the hardest job in the world. Minul thought bitterly, her mind still lingering on her mother. Some days you just have to show up.

She sat up with a groan, exposing herself to the cold. She wore only a light shift to bed, not liking the feel of heavy fabric between her and the covers. Though, she also couldn’t go completely naked, as there were more than one situation that called for guards barging into her room in the middle of the night.

She ran a hand through her hair, tangled from sleep. She’d forgotten to put her nightcap on and now it would she would have to get it washed, brushed, and braided again. Just another item to add to the list.

Looking around the room, she found the shutters looking out onto the city. White-capped gabled roofs and steeples as far as the eye could see. Thin pillars of smoke rose from multiple buildings that were lighting their fireplaces. She noted the light falling through the window landing on the small table set before it.

An old discolored teddy lay resting against the wall. The original color had been a rich brown, supposedly styled after the brown bear living on the southern border of Elusria, though now Minul recognized that it would’ve been too vibrant for a predators colors. Now, the teddy was a faded gray, with a big blue patch of equally faded cloth covering a large scar on her left side.

Pincher had seen better days, but then again so had Minul. Her eyes ached staring at the bear in cloth form. She remembered running around the very halls outside her door, as of yet unaware of politics, countries, and warfare. The front lines was a place of stories from the soldiers and old men. Tethered were crafty and powerful beings that stood as far above normal men, as stories did the every day goings on of a palace.

She’d run around exploring the world anew each and every day, Pincher on her arm. The teddy had been named for ‘its’ tendency to pinch people when they got too close. Then Minul would giggle and run away before she could get caught.

She remembered one time, she was running away from one of her mother’s guests after pinching him on the butt. She’d dove between some of the rose bushes in the gardens. Both Pincher and her had gotten caught on the rose thorns. She earned several small lashes all across her arms and hands, and Pincher had been ripped all along her left side.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

It had been a terrible day, the worst to ever happen. Minul had been devastated and had begged long and hard for the maids to fix Pincher up. Why she hadn’t gone to her tailor, Minul didn’t remember, but the maids had still fixed Pincher up as best they could. Pincher had never quite been the same, but scars would do that to anyone. Even teddy bears somehow.

That had been a time before she’d seen the front lines, watched young men die for her, her country, and the alliance. Before she’d had to defend herself from the first assassination attempt. Before she’d watched a man choke on his own blood as he died for her.

Minul took in a deep breath, and kicked the covers off. The room was chill, the sudden shock of cold did something to let her slip the dysphoria clinging to her mind. She shook her head twice, before standing up. She ignored her slippers, instead putting her feet on the shockingly cold floor.

There’d once been a carpet in here, but she’d had it removed. Her slippers were well made and quite luxurious. If she desired to avoid the cold she could always put those on. But on a day like this, where her thoughts and the burden of her duty weighed on her, she needed the shock.

Minul hadn’t been Queen for long, but she’d been quick to recognize most of the luxury as a trap. An attempt to pull her into laxness, let her guard down, and let herself become exposed to the dangers of a decadent life.

Roughly tugging a brush through her hair, Minul winced with each knot and tangle she found, but the pain distracted her just like the cold floor. Then she had to hurry into something more comfortable, since she was starting to really freeze.

She had two variants of dresses. The ones designed to fit over normal clothes and the ones designed to be modular. The modular dresses hadn’t been her invention, but one of her mother’s tailors, actually. The best thing to come from her reign. They were designed to be really simple, she was able to dress herself in the inner layer. That was fine enough on its own, at least, if she hadn’t been a Queen. Then she could further add extra details to her skirt, like a pelt, or wrap around fur. There were many different options, allowing her mix and match, while mostly dressing herself. Some of the more delicate attachments, like a single sleeve made from the winter fur of a wolf had delicate chains woven throughout and required at least another set of hands to put on.

For now, she just put on a base light gray dress and her slippers. Opening the door, she was greeted with the sight of a full room of people waiting for her Gorm, Saif, and a few maids on their knees working brushes on the floor.

Queen Minul II shrugged her dress a little further up on her shoulders. Ideally, she’d dressed more formally for this many people, but ideally this chamber wouldn’t be full. She strode into the room, walking around the wet stains on the floor where the maids had been working previously.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Gorm said falling to one knee.

“Your Majesty,” Saif greeted with an indolent wave.

“Rise,” Queen Minul commanded to Gorm. “What’s happened here?” She didn’t let annoyance creep into her tone, though she wanted to.

“Assassins, Your Majesty,” Gorm explained. “Your advisor, Saif, took care of them.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Saif said waving it off.

“I have to go,” Gorm said, glancing briefly at Saif. “By your leave, Your Majesty.”

Minul waved him off watching the armored man stride off. “Assassins?” She asked once he’d left.

“Like I said, don’t worry about it. I handled them,” Saif smiled self-confidently, his white teeth peeking through his beard.

“Outside my bedroom?” Minul asked arching a brow.

“Well, they made their way through the wall,” Saif pointed to the northern wall. Now that Minul looked closer, she did see the odd patch within constitution of the stone. “Melted the stone, then closed it back up after them. Their smoke obscured their movements, and I’m sure their warp was going to kill you.”

“Three tethered, and I didn’t hear you kill them?”

Saif simply smiled, his orange eyes did seem more vibrant than they usually did. Almost yellow, in fact. Though that may just have been the morning light reflecting off his eyes.

Realizing Saif wasn’t going to elaborate further, Minul instead gestured to the wet spots on the floor. “What about this? I assume it’s their blood they’re cleaning?” She didn’t bother asking who’d sent the assassins. They both knew who. They’d been assuming it was coming for some time.

Inaaya al-Bacchus wanted to make Elusria into a dukedom to Ankiria, likely so she could become the duchess. Removing Minul was the only step they could count on with a hundred percent surety that Inaaya was going to take.

“Some blood, a bit of soot, and some burn marks,” Saif explained waving at the maids. “Sometimes I leave stains that I can’t just pull out again,” He features scrunched up, “Unfortunately.”