Minul said her goodbyes to the master of finance, closing the door gently as the master kept talking. The master’s pinching ways were as deep and powerful as the glaciers, it made them good at their job. It also made for a nearly intolerable person.

With a sigh, Minul slumped into her chair in the study and slid the massive volume of finances away, letting it rest at the end of her desk. When she’d first been crowned she’d returned it to the shelves after every meeting, but the book was massive and the master always called for more than their scheduled weekly appointments.

There were a lot of things that didn’t exactly fit within Minul’s ideals of what a Queen should do during her reign. Coming fresh off the heels of her mother’s rule, Minul hadn’t exactly been willing to bend often. In fact, she was sure she’d been at least as annoying as the master of finances.

However, the role of the monarch wasn’t well suited for the unbending. They too often themselves broke under the weight. The storm ripping them apart.

With a sigh, she returned to the reports she’d been struggling with before the master’s impromptu visit. She cracked open the folder despite knowing all the contents inside by heart. The folder contained four reports.

The first was from Saif with early data on dissidents who had aligned themselves with Inaaya. Already the list was disturbingly long and filled with too many high-ranking members of society. People who felt they were stuck in the elusrian backwaters. Minul dreaded the finalized list even more.

Not because it would worsen their situation, but for the weight it put on her soul. Her plan, developing as it still was, weighed on her mind. She’d asked a lot of her subjects over the few short years she’d been Queen and she’d done even more, yet this would tear all other examples out of the ice.

This would be a defining moment in her rule, potentially in the history of Elusria.

Leaning back in her seat, she felt the nausea welling up again, the uncomfortable roiling in her stomach. She gripped the side of the desk as she felt like it was slipping off to the side. She held steady letting the feeling pass. It took a moment, but it faded leaving only the slight nausea and a trembling in her chest fighting against the heavy bands that seemed to settle against her.

The other reports in the folder were newer, and she was, accordingly, less familiar with them. She took in deep slow breaths, reassuring herself that the room wasn’t squeezing in on her as she read over the words again.

They were from Leif and the administrators she’d set to spy on the academy and supply her with information. The Master of Education had had a talk with Zubair and the other masters from Ankiria. Both of the administrators had been at the meeting, though, Pashar had been unable to enter due to other circumstances.

The ankirians weren’t pleased with the situation at the academy. People were caught fighting every week even with student sent to isolation, but it didn’t seem to be helping the situation any. Slowing it down, maybe, but not fixing it. Not that she was that surprised.

She was nearly certain that Inaaya was fueling parts of the conflict somehow. Between her and the Masters’ Council, some sort of infighting was inevitable. Those fact just didn’t fit nicely on a report to Ankiria. Nor was it easy to explain that the princess they’d brought along deserved a large share of the blame.

But the excuse rang hollow in her mind. She’d only told Saif briefly of her budding plans and even that had made her sick. Now she trying to foist off the blame on to Inaaya.

She shook her head and stood causing her the chair to fall on its back. Minul, you’re stronger than this, she told herself as she paced the study. Books lined walls, cover-to-cover in the dark wood shelves. One particular shelf bulged under the weight of the massive finance books. This hadn’t been filled yet, as it only held the books from her time as Queen. Five books, five years.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Her face felt weird, a prickling sensation was coming over it. She’d asked many things of her people and she was still doing it. Horrible things. Minul had been to the front lines, many times. The first time had been a detour before she was taken to Ankiria for her awakening to the royal blood and her powers. She’d been there again on her last trip back from the desert country. She’d just been a princess hoping to prolong the weeks before returning to her mother’s rule.

She’d seen a man choke on his own blood that day.

She was standing at the back with the commanders, watching dark and white uniforms advance on a mass of people covered in gray cloth.

The Flesh-torn had unleashed a barrage of arrows. The projectile should’ve never gone as far as it did, be it a trick of freak winds or maybe an accident from their own lines. She just remembered the whistling noise of the arrowhead splitting the air. It was a sound familiar to her by then, she’d been practicing warp for years, except the impact was far too wet.

The arrow had taken the commander on her right through his throat, cutting right through. He’d coughed blood on her face, staining her cheek with heat before he’d fallen over. She remembered the odd sight of the commander, a lieutenant, lying next to the arrow that was killing him as he convulsed and choked on his own blood. And she remembered the look in his eyes.

She didn’t know his name at the time, and she’d been too afraid to ask afterwards.

Minul wiped her cheek with a shaking hand, realizing that it wasn’t actually stained. She wasn’t back on the front lines. She pressed the hand to her chest as she tried calming herself. That memory, his eyes and his thin mustache, that hadn’t quite grown in properly, colored a vivid red, stuck with her more deeply than seeing her mother’s fat and bloated corpse.

She pressed the hand harder against her stomach as she knelt on the floor, trying and failing to pry open the space to her tether.

She couldn’t do it.

It was too much.

She couldn’t breathe, her lungs were locking up barely working.

Everything just kept growing out of control.

She tore at tether-space again but her attempts were too rushed and panicked.

Saif opened the door sometime later. He hadn’t been smiling and laughing when he entered, which was unusual. He must’ve heard what was going on, somehow.

How long had she been there.

“Minul?” He gently, but insistently, pulled her head into his chest, forcing her partway onto his lap. “What happened?”

She shook her head, trying to pull away but he kept her in place. She could feel his heartbeat through his chest. She shouldn’t fall apart like this, she was the Queen. She was supposed to be composed and strong. Yet here she was lying on the floor. She wasn’t strong at all, she was just a fraud.

“Shh,” Saif said his chest buzzing against her ear with her sound. He started humming some tune, an old ankirian one. She didn’t remember the words, but the rhythm and the vibrations of his chest calmed her down some. “It’s going to be okay,” the way he gently put a tough and calloused hand on her head made her almost believe it.

She imagined this was what children in the arms of their fathers felt like. She still shook slightly when she spoke.

“It’s too big, it’s becoming too much.”

“You worry too much,” Saif said stroking her hair and continuing his humming. “Take it one step at a time. Break it into manageable pieces.”

“I- I don’t know…” She couldn’t stop herself from shaking. She was a fraud. A failure. She played at being a Queen, but she didn’t know how to rule people. She wasn’t a leader.

“Then it might be some time for rest,” Saif suggested with a tone of mild amusement.

She tried pulling away from him, but his arms were strong as they held her tight.

“When was the last time you got a proper nights sleep?” He asked worry in his tone.

She shrugged, finally managing to pull out of his arms. Staring at him for a long moment, her eyes flickered to his orange ones… She shook her head.

She pulled back, forcing herself to stand.

“I can’t do it,” she shook her head, “I can’t go through with it.”

Saif looked worriedly at her, before lifting what he’d been carrying. A folder. The finalized list of dissidents, “I’m not sure you have a choice.”

The knot in Minul’s stomach intensified, clawing so tight she felt it might tear her stomach apart.

“How bad?”

“The Sworden family has recently had a spike of economic activity, increasing their standing household guard. Outside of them several tethered with ties to Council also have been acting strangely.”

Minul might throw up. The Swordens already had one of the biggest armies in the country, outside of the United Alliance and Minul herself. Serpent-Vein would certainly turn on her as well. Inga and her crew gave them a sizable advantage in numbers.

“As well as a few lesser members from families we previously thought were safe,” Saif stepped closer to her putting a hand on her shoulder. “Sleep on it. Don’t make any decisions right now.”

Minul swallowed hard, but finally nodded. She had no idea how she was going to get any sleep, though.