Should The King meet an untimely death, the monarchy then belongs to the Crown Prince-- and should he also meet an untimely death -- his brothers shall take the throne, if there are no brothers to take the throne, then the monarchy shall be governed by the next of kin.
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It was predicted to be the hottest day of the year. The sun beat down on everything like a whip to a slave's back, leaving scars in the form of visible heat waves that simmered above the people's heads.
The air was still and humid, hot like flames that clung stubbornly to people's tongues and wrapped an oppressive hold on their bodies. Everyone was sweating in excess, sweat-drenched their garbs and faces like baptismal water.
Although it was hotter than hell itself, no one in the Kingdom of Kediakin would've missed this day for anything.
It was a day that would go down in history: The Kingdom of Kediakin had its very first female ruler in all its three hundred years of existence.
First Princess Nura bint Hakim al-Hashim was getting crowned as the new monarch in the capital city of Yraqia in the presence of over half a million officials. Over two hundred million citizens watched the crowning ceremony on the large jumbo screens in every state city square.
The public had only seen Nura a handful of times. King Hakim al-Hashim had been vigilant about keeping his only daughter out of the public eye, as most kings did with their youngest.
As a last born and a female, she was destined to live her entire childhood and adolescent years confined in the walls of the palace until an acclaimed suitor asked for her hand in marriage. The world would get a glimpse of her during her wedding and never again. That had been the plan, but plans tended to go awry.
The first time the world had seen her was six months after she was born, some twenty-two odd years ago. The kingdom had celebrated the birth of His Highness King Hakim al-Hashim's First Princess. The King had held a three-day festival for the people where everyone was permitted to rest and to be merry.
The second time, First Princess Nura had been eight years old and had been attending the official crowning ceremony of her older brother, Crown Prince Najib bin Hakim al-Hashim.
It was an event she had no solid recollections of, but she remembered the oppressive and heavy weight of her garbs, the unbearable heat, the beady stares of the people watching them in the city capital and the feeling of wanting to hide behind her mother's elaborate kuftanuntil they could go home.
Even so, the day that Crown Prince Najib would have to claim the throne seemed aeons away -- their father was still as healthy as a horse and had no plans of handing his authority over anytime soon.
And should anything untoward happen to the Crown Prince, Second Prince Qamar was second in line and after he was Third Prince Ahmed. King Hakim had been so assured that the kingdom had enough heirs to carry on the legacy, he was confident that he had taken the right measures to protect the throne and preserve it for his sons. Yet it was now entirely clear that his best measures had not been good enough.
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Nura was sure the people could smell her fear from a mile away. She was sure that they, like her, knew that under the facade of a woman who was dressed up to look like a capable ruler was a little girl playing dress up. She saw how their eyes bore into her from down below.
She could recognize a couple of familiar faces from her kingdom's government amongst the sea of other nation's kings, presidents and prime ministers that had attended this affair.
She felt like her knees were going to buckle and she would black out right there and then -- so great were her nerves. Her hand that was tight to her husband's grasp shook violently.
She felt Wassim tighten his hold on her hand, a silent promise that he was there for her and willed for her to calm down. Along with her nerves was the weight of her heavy heart. From that year onwards she was an orphaned woman.
The al-Hashims were a family of bloodshed and every single ruler that had been sworn in had killed his predecessor to gain the throne. Nura was the only exception to this -- as the blood of her entire family was not in her hands. This time, someone else had wiped out her entire family, before any of the heirs could get any ideas.
Her heart was overflowing with grief for the family she had lost -- from her beloved mother First Queen Zahra to all of her siblings. They'd been found in their chambers some fifteen days ago, beheaded like chickens. The only reason Nura, her husband Wassim and their infant twins Wassim II and Malak had survived, was because the killers had been caught before they could reach their chambers.
The coronation itself was a blur of events that all melded into one; from the moment she recited her vows and made a solemn oath to uphold them, honoured the memory of her slain family, was bestowed upon the crown and sceptre of the kingdom and was officially sworn in as the queen.
And now, she had to deliver even if she wasn't ready to.
