The Throne

Chapter Three: The Commencement Day

Today is the day that everyone's lives will change. It is my eighteenth birthday, a day I've been anticipating for years. As of today, I will be the Ambassador of Pink. As of today, I will begin to reverse the damage my father has done to our continent.

The moment I open my eyes, a feeling of bliss is present within me. It is brief, followed by a sense of sadness and guilt. Today is the anniversary of my mother's death. Usually, birthdays of mine are ignored as my father and I put aside our hatred for one another to mourn. Today, though, I almost forget about my mother. For the first time in a while, I feel... hopeful. Happy even.

I wander through my penthouse apartment, setting some water to boil and scrolling through the TV-like screen on the wall, scanning the pages for anything remotely interesting. Being the daughter of the Ambassador of Pink means special perks, like our own building full of penthouse apartments. I switch rooms every few weeks to keep my father on his toes; it's for both of our benefits that we don't know where the other lives. Currently I'm on the fifteenth floor - far away from my father and far away from the world.

I wear a pink dress and a black cover up in respect of my mother. I do my hair up in a braid crown, just like she taught me. I can almost feel her here with me, cheering me on during this most important day. It's been days since I've seen my father and I'm nervous, but her spirit gives me the strength I need to carry on with the task at hand. I enter the elevator, taking deep breaths.

All too soon, the elevator reaches the lobby and I step out, nervously looking around for signs of my father. I spot him through the glass window of the conference room, and make my way over there apprehensively.

My father doesn't even look up when I enter the room, although I am certain he senses my presence.

"Sir," I say, bowing my head respectfully.

He briefly looks up from the paperwork in front of him, eyeing my outfit disdainfully. He's clearly expecting me to be wearing all black, and I silently curse myself for letting him down yet again, then quickly reprimand myself yet again - I long for the day when his opinion means nothing to me. His eyes return to his work, but his hand quivers. He remembers. This day ten years ago, he lost the love of his life. He'll keep it together today for the sake of the show, but tonight, once he's alone, he'll break down.

I take a seat across from him, as far away as possible. We sit in silence for a few minutes before I timidly clear my throat. He looks up, his icy blue eyes staring me down in hatred.

"Yes?" His voice is cold and hard, but raspy, as if he's been crying or shouting.

"I...I..." I stammer, nearly losing my nerve. I look down at my clench fists and steel myself to stand up to my father for the first time in my life. "Sir, shouldn't we be heading to the Capitol?"

He looks up in genuine surprise.

"The Capitol? What ever for?"

Now it's my turn for surprise.

"For... for my commencement? As ambassador?"

He lets out a short, mirthless laugh.

"Ambassador? You?" he says, scanning the room like I'm playing a joke on him.

"Uh, yes, sir. Today is my eighteenth birthday."

"I am well aware," he says curtly, returning his glance to his work, attempting to end the conversation.

Usually, I would concede the point and return to my studies. Today, though, at his emotionless response, a flare of anger boils up inside of me.

"Therefore, sir, it is time for you to pass down your position to me," I claim boldly.

Yet another mirthless laugh escapes his lips.

"To you? A child? And an incompetent, foolish one at that?" His words are like a slap in the face, knocking the air out of me. I take a deep breath.

"Yes, sir. I am of age, and I scored the highest in the determining logic test last month, therefore you are supposed to pass down the position," I state confidently.

"And what makes you think that?"

"The... the Handbook, sir."

"I see," he says, removing his copy of the Handbook, the constitution of the New World, from his briefcase. He opens it up to a folded page and slides the book across the table to me. I scan the highlighted passage.

"Exactly, sir. It says right here that once the child of the Ambassador reaches 18, and if she has scored the highest in the continent on the logic test, the position of Ambassador will be passed down," I venture, not quite sure what is going on at the moment.

"No, you fool, read it again," he says curtly, and I obey.

My heart sinks in my chest.

He's underlined the word may.

An ambassador may pass down their position when the winner of the logic test reaches 18.

"Just so we're clear," he starts, a devilish glint in his eye. He's enjoying this. "You will never be Ambassador. As long as I'm alive... I will make sure of that."

I blink at him a few times, debating in my head how to respond to his cruel words. I think about lashing out, and I almost do it... but something in my father's eyes tell me he's waiting for that, he'll enjoy seeing me shout or cry or get angry. He wants a reaction. I make a silent promise to myself.

I will never give him the satisfaction of making me angry. Never.

I un-clench my jaw. Relax my hands from their fists. I brace myself to leave.

I turn around one last time, and do something he'd never expect his levelheaded, shy daughter to do.

"You'll rot in Hell."

I turn from my father's shocked expression and saunter out of the room confidently. I will be the Ambassador - I'll just have to find a way.