The Farren Queens

Amara

Amara tried not to vomit as she walked towards the ballroom.

The night hasn't even begun. Amara's heart raced faster with every step.
"Right. So calm down."

The ballroom had two long tables arranged on either end, with the open area in between meant for dancing. Amara could tell which visitors had been born into luxury and which had not. While high class merchants stared in awe at the ornate walls and chandeliers, many of the royals simply sat down at the dining tables, talking to each other. Keeping her head held high, she ignored the people staring at her and sat down next to the head of the table.

Everyone sat down, and Amara waited for them to settle down. Just as they were starting to get restless, she took a deep breath and began her speech.
Suddenly, all of her anxiety and nerves came flooding back.

Breathe, repeat. You have to do this. Amara forced herself to stand, but when she did, she was hit with a wave of light-headedness and her breathing became short and shallow.

"Thank you all for coming." Amara began, "It is such an honor to be standing here in front of you today. I would like to thank my father." She couldn't lose consciousness, she couldn't faint. "He has helped me so much through the years."

She couldn't. She was going to pass out. The room had begun to spin. Black spots clouded her vision. What if she passed out? What if-

"Pull yourself together." the voice in her head demanded. "It's a speech. You aren't killing anybody, you're eating dinner. Get it together."

Amara took a deep breath and straightened her posture, but her leg continued to shake under her skirt.

"Without him, I would not be standing before you right now. He always believed in me. Even on bad days, my father pulled through for me. I would never have made it this far without his guidance and mentorship. Thank you, my dear father.

"If there is one goal I have for our country, it is for everyone to have a chance. A chance to explore the world, to see friends, to pursue their dreams, or anything else the heart desires. I want a choice for our country. With your help, we can make that a reality. We can fix all that is broken in our world. Thank you for giving me this chance. Thank you for trusting me to make choices on your behalf. Thank you."

"That was truly a wonderful speech. It was world changing! Who knew a few words could solve all of the problems in this world? So meaningful, so original." the voice mocked.

What else am I supposed to say? Our country is weak and will probably be invaded by Bek? That's a great way to start my reign.

"What about the poverty your villages face?"

Poverty is nothing compared to potential war.

The waiters came and placed a feast on the table. Ophelia, who had turned eight a few days ago, looked at the table with wonder in her eyes. She examined the ceremonial tablecloth and the elaborate embroidery. It was the first time Ophelia was allowed at a ball, and she stared at everything as though it was magic. Amara hoped her littlest sister never lost her wonderful imagination.

"Amara, do I have to call you 'queen' now that you are in charge?" Ophelia asked.

"My dear, you and Eira are the only ones who don't have to." Amara told her. Then, in a whisper, she said, "It's because you are the most important people in my life. But don't tell anyone I said that, promise?"

"Promise." her little sister vowed, eager to have a secret to keep.

Amara served herself a little bit of everything, but stayed far away from the olives. She ate mashed potatoes creamier than butter, delicious onion soup, roasted quail that melted in her mouth, and for dessert, she had her favorite lemon tarts. She remembered her mother insisting that she be allowed to bake the lemon tarts herself, claiming that none of the servants "made them just quite right."