The Life Of A Queen

Chapter 1

The child is broken long before she could even consider what it actually means. Her father died hours after her birth. Her mother didn't love her. She didn't know her mother. All she knew was people in frantic passing. Some were only there when somebody wanted to drip her blood or remove her head. Some were there to keep her hidden. None were there to love her.

The little child had become a queen long before she was declared healthy. A sickly, incredibly small baby girl with raven hair and coal eyes, ruled over a nation, most of whom wanted her power. So, wanted her dead.

Some didn't want her dead. They acknowledged her as their rightful queen, but with her mother unable to retain power, the people who didn't want her head wanted her power.

Others wanted her dead. They wanted to drip the baby's blood from the sky and dance on her grave. They wanted to kill her. They wanted her head. They wanted her crown. They wanted her country. They wanted everything. They wanted to murder an innocent child who didn't yet even understand she was royalty.

Outside of her kingdom walls, most wanted her head. The neighbouring country was rich and powerful, continuously attacking her country whilst her father ruled over it. They wanted what was rightfully hers. They knew it was imploding from the inside. Men wanted to kill their Queen. Wanted her power. So, they would do anything to take it.

When she turns two, she is no longer afraid of death. For many people had broken into her chambers at night and attempted to drain her blood from her body, through a deep slash at the throat. For many people had broken into her chambers at night and stole her from her cot, taking the child from the cold court and the loveless mother. For many people had slipped herbs and liquids into her food, attempting to burn her from the inside out.

Guards hear the baby Queen scream as people attempt to end her life. She's narrowly saved, but any innocence the child could have had was diminished, as murder was conducted in front of her newborn eyes. She's narrowly saved seven times, in her first two years, by royalists. They take her back to the loveless arms of her mother, who sends her off to people whom she didn't know. Physicians save the screaming baby as she coughs up blood, however left weakened by another failed assassination attempt. She's sent away again. People die of similar scenes in front of her child eyes. Nobody staying in her life for more than a month.

Alone, she was truly alone.

By the time she is four, she was no longer afraid of anything. Another two countries fall under her name, one out of bloodline and another pledging loyalty to her and her rule, leading to more assassination attempts by the powerful country and those who wished to be under anthers' rule or a democracy.

People conducting coups on her castle had became normal. She was able to sleep through it at one point. She is no longer afraid of murder, for she'd seen it too many times to be affected by it anymore. Many had been due to her own hand. She is one with bow and blade. She is no longer afraid when she's ushered out of her chambers in the middle of the nights, the sounds of war becoming a lullaby, rather than a scream.

Her mother had done something to anger the powerful country, and they were furious at the little Queen. So, she is sent away for weeks on a boat, being constantly thrown by the angry waves, until a foreign land comes into view.

She, alone steps forwards, silently observing her surroundings as a blonde boy steps with her. Two regal people stood behind him, one short and dressed in autumnal velvet, another tall and dressed in extravagant clothing. She looked around the blonde boy quietly, guards and servants surrounding them.

Francis stood nervously next to his mother, fiddling with his black velvet doublet, keeping his eyes locked with the green grass that lay underneath his leather boots. The little prince was nervous, but would never admit it. He was to meet his future bride this morning.