23rd October, 1345.
Stormhold Castle,
The Walled City of Rothwell,
Capital of Myknos.
Queen Khasi Malik of Shiv'ra and Myknos
As Khasi was helped into the heavily jeweled gown she had had made for her coronation, she couldn't fight the smile that stretched across her face.
It was an ornate work of gold netting that hugged her curves and left little to imagination, golden beads and diamonds dangling from where they had been sewn loosely into the material, reflecting the bright light of the seemingly sunny day and rattling with each step she took.
She was sure the Mynosian nobles would have their noses turned up in disgust of her scandalous outfit, but like the cowards they were, they would do nothing more. They hadn't even been bold enough to fight for their dead King and still hadn't spoken a word about the Prince she was about to execute.
