Zia never thought she'd be learning the ins and outs of "how to be a queen," but here she was, in a drafty palace chamber, wrestling with decorum. The day began with Lila, her new maid and rapidly-becoming partner in crime, introducing her to the palace routine.
"Breakfast is served at dawn in the grand hall, but don't expect His Highness to be there," Lila said, rolling her eyes. "He's usually off doing mysterious princely things."
Zia smirked. "Good. More food for me."
Their banter carried on as they made their way through the palace halls, Zia trying to remember countless new names and titles. Every turn brought a new face, each with a unique nod or bow, but by midday, it felt like a maze with no end in sight.
Lila pointed out members of the palace staff, whispering tidbits about each. "That's Sir Harold, the royal gardener. A bit of a perfectionist," she whispered as they passed a rather prickly-looking man tending to rosebushes.
"Noted," Zia murmured, shooting Lila a grateful glance.
They continued through the palace grounds, Zia marveling at the vibrant colors and lushness. Her heart swelled, not just with excitement but with something deeper—a sense of belonging she hadn't known she'd missed.
After midday, Zia and Leon were expected at the weekly council meeting. Zia's heart pounded as they entered the grand council room, Leon by her side, his hand reassuringly clasping hers.
She did her best to follow the conversation between nobles discussing border disputes and upcoming festivals, trying to stay focused. But Lila's antics throughout the day had taken a toll; Zia's mind drifted, only half-listening until someone asked, "Your opinion, Your Grace?"
"Uh…yes?" she said with a questioning look, drawing stifled laughs from some council members.
Leon nudged her gently. "He was asking if we should host a banquet for the visiting dignitaries."
"Oh! Yes, of course," she replied, feigning confidence. "Banquet away."
---
As the evening approached, Zia found herself in her chambers, preparing for a royal ball in honor of her arrival. Lila fussed over her gown, tightening the laces and adjusting the sleeves.
"Do I really have to wear this?" Zia complained, eyeing the frills and embroidery with distaste.
"It's tradition," Lila said, barely able to suppress a grin. "Besides, you look… well, almost like a queen."
"Oh, good," Zia groaned, mock-thrilled. "Almost."
They both burst into laughter, and it felt good—familiar and real.
Finally dressed, Zia made her way to the ballroom where Leon was waiting. When he saw her, his expression softened, eyes widening as he took her hand.
"You look beautiful," he whispered, his voice so sincere it made her heart skip a beat.
"Thanks," she replied with a playful smirk. "I was going for 'queen-like,' but I'll settle for beautiful."
They joined the festivities, and Zia found herself unexpectedly swept up in the laughter and the light, mingling with nobles and commoners alike. She danced with Leon, savoring the music, the warmth of his hand, and the feel of being surrounded by people who, despite the strangeness of it all, felt like family.
As the night wore on, she noticed Lila, slipping through the crowd with a mischievous grin, clearly up to no good. She spotted Zia, gave her a wink, and continued on her way, her antics only adding to the evening's joy.
Zia may not have mastered the art of queenship just yet, but with Leon, Lila, and the newfound warmth of her palace life, she felt she might someday.