The King Trials.

~Future High Queen~

The elongated table is laden with silver platters. Father walks in first, mother struts behind him at his right hand but never at his side. They both claim a seat at the heads of the twelve-seater table. Seliah and I sit at the centre, directly opposite each other.

The architecture of the dining hall is probably my most preferred. The azure walls are embossed with golden artistry. A simple yet elegant candle chandelier that looms above. Standing candelabras are at every corner, warding off the darkness that grows in strength. The light of time waning.

Every bronze plate is accompanied by a complex array of utensils and chalices for wine. Two maidservants come in from the archway that connects to the main kitchen. Separately, they tend to the Domus and Domina, filling their cups with red. Then cutting thin slices of roasted meat for them.

 Whereas Seliah and I prefer to assist ourselves. We have hands and choose to use them.

Now that I think of it. The distance that parts us at dinner takes form in true life. I love my father and he loves me. A formal relationship between father and child. I respect that he has accepted me as I am and not scorned me for what I should have been. A man. A true heir and inheritor of our Regnum.

Mother, on the other hand, has always reminded me of such. I am a Hera. I am to look and behave in a way that a noblewoman ought to. Every discussion revolves around it, but despite it, I can sense her care for me. That is the only way a Hera, a woman like me, can attain a good life; by marrying into it.

She knows because that is what she had to do.

Seliah's relationship between our father and my mother. Well. That is an entirely different dynamic.

My chain of thought is struck the moment I see Burg stride into the room. A sheeny blue euro pillow is in his one hand, the other is fisted behind his back. A royal scroll rests in the centre, along with father's reading glasses.

He makes his way to him and delivers the parchment. Father unfurls the scroll and holds it above his plate, then picks up his reading glasses by the end of the long rod. He examines the parchment and uses his reading glasses as a magnifying glass, swaying it in the needed direction.

I watch closely at the range of emotions on his face; from a pensive study to a look of sheer astonishment. And now, his thick eyebrows raise to dangerous heights.

"By the grace of the Almighty..."

The words rush out. "May I see the decree?"

Too stunned to chide my request. He returns the parchment and his glasses back on the pillow. He flicks a hand of approval in my direction. Burg then rounds my father and makes his way to me. Burg has been with us for longer than I can remember, longer than Pinta. He was always like an older relative to me than a Regnum servant. Only in the Domus and Domina's presence is everything cold, unreceptive, and far too formal.

He lowers the pillow, and I thank him with a smile.

I take it, skimming over the words. And now I understand my father's bafflement. By his order. I read the decree aloud.

By the words of our sovereign High King. Let the realm know and all nine provinces mourn the death of his scion. The Dophan Alejendio, the second, has perished from his long-term illness. With no other heirs to be prospective successors. The High King has agreed to comply with the ancient protocols of Shalem and initiate the King Trials. Every eldest descendant of a Domus, one of pure blood, must be sent to the Pantheon by the second equinox. All nine candidates will be bestowed the chance to be the next High Ruler of Urium.

 Nine contestants, but only one is true. May only the worthy rule.

Ragnul gruffuard.