A sharp, heavy knock at the door broke the quiet of the morning, echoing ominously through the room. Before I could even register the sound, the doors swung open with a force that made their hinges groan under the strain. A hulking figure stepped into the room, his presence almost suffocating.
The man stood before me, a giant of a man whose size and stature were reminiscent of a great bear, every step he took resounding powerfully through the floor beneath him. He was dressed in a black uniform, not simple clothing but pristine in its condition, well maintained, and it was adorned with a striking insignia featuring four swords that pointed inward toward one another, their tips converging in a powerful symbol that could represent either unity or perhaps an impending conflict. As he moved closer to me, the atmosphere around us seemed to grow notably colder, and his piercing glare remained unwaveringly fixed on me, conveying a sense of intensity that was almost palpable.
Without uttering even a single word, he suddenly seized me by the collar of my shirt; his meaty fist clenched tightly around it, like an unyielding vice, displaying immense strength that left me feeling trapped.
"Why in the world would you ever do a thing like that?" he thundered, his voice shaking with furious wrath and indignation.
"Do what?" I got out, though my voice was steadier and more composed than the maelstrom of emotions seething inside me would have suggested. His sudden appearance, the sheer force of his presence, the palpable intensity of his raw anger—it all combined to leave me utterly bewildered and in a state of confusion.
"Do not play dumb with me!" he bellowed, shaking me slightly as he did so. His face was uncomfortably close to mine, with the veins on his forehead pulsating violently in a manner that made them seem like they would erupt at any moment.
I found myself turning to face him, confused, my expression twisted in a query. "What, exactly are you referring to?"
"Moving all those people to the inner empire through a death march!" he bellowed, his voice heavy with accusation.
My bewilderment grew even greater. "A death march?" I echoed, my face screwing up into a disbelieving scowl. "I surely never ordered anything of the sort. What I explicitly instructed was an evacuation of the outer districts, with a view to forming defensive strongpoints, well placed along the two great rivers."
The man's grip slowly relaxed as he found himself lost for a moment, his brows pinched together in a facial expression that said a mixture of confusion. "Evacuation? Then why—"
I rapidly smacked his hands away from my body and took a moment to shift and straighten out my nightgown, brushing off what I assumed was nonexistent dust. "Now," I shrilled at him in authoritative tones, cutting him off before he even had the opportunity to complete the thought, "may I inquire as to the reason you saw fit to wake me so early? Is there some element of actual import to this visit, or do you simply happen to be here for the sole purpose of imposing some sort of excessive annoyance upon me?"
He stepped back, his face flickering between frustration and bewilderment. My smirk didn't help. The way his jaw clenched told me he was at his wit's end. Without another word, he stormed out, his heavy boots slamming against the floor with every step.
He swung back inside, and the door slammed shut behind him. Suddenly the room was aghast with silence.
I exhaled sharply and, with mixed feelings, sank back into the couch. "Death march?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper at the thousand possibilities and just as much uncertainty that now flooded my mind. Whatever could he mean by those words?
If this were true, it would mean that either someone had ridiculously misunderstood my explicit instructions—or, worse, had deliberately distorted them to fit some agenda of their own. Either way, it was a huge issue that I couldn't afford to overlook or just ignore.
Deciding that this was a matter of some urgency, I rose and dressed rapidly in something more appropriate to a ruler: a black coat with gold trim and a high collar, with trousers to match and boots polished to a mirror finish. It wasn't the most practical outfit, but appearances mattered.
As I took my first steps out into the expansive corridor, I couldn't help but notice how the polished marble floor beneath my feet beautifully reflected the warm morning light that was streaming in through the tall, intricately designed stained-glass windows. The vibrant and vivid colors that cascaded down and danced along the walls created a mesmerizing spectacle; however, I found myself in no mood to stop and admire the exquisite artistry before me.
As I walked down the hallway, I passed a number of servants, all of whom bowed very deeply to me and with much respect as I passed by. Not a single one looked up to catch my eye—this was quite normal, for I had come to realize that no one ever looked me in the eye. It was a small thing, but it was something that I found myself growing more and more aware of with each passing day. Was it fear? Respect? Indifference? Perhaps all three emotions combined.
I soon found myself face to face with the head manager, who was giving orders to a cluster of maids. He turned as I approached and his expression immediately changed to one of respect.
"Your Majesty," he said, bowing deeply with great reverence.
"Call the council," I said curtly. "I want every member in the throne room now."
The head manager straightened, his usual eagerness flickering in his eyes. "May I ask the purpose, sire?"
"You may not," I said, brushing past him with confidence.
The man did not follow up the matter with any further questions, but I could feel that his piercing eyes had remained fixed upon me and watched as I went down the lengthy corridor.
The throne room, which also served as the council chamber for important discussions and gatherings, was not only vast but also incredibly imposing in its overall presence. High ceilings soared overhead, and great pillars stood at attention, proud and strong; the air in this grand room was heavy with the weight of a thousand major decisions that had been made here through the years.
As I slowly made my way to the great, golden throne at the extreme end of the hall, I couldn't help but observe how its gilded edges brilliantly caught and reflected the sunbeams pouring through the high, beautiful windows. Having finally settled in the chair, I laid my chin upon the back of my hand and got thoroughly engrossed in thought as I began to think over many things that filled my mind.
If this was the so-called "death march" that everyone talked about, then either someone was grossly incompetent or deliberately trying to sabotage me. Neither of the scenarios augured well for his or her career prospects, sadly. Punishment—concretely execution—crossed my mind, at which I stop.
I found myself thinking about why it is that I'm so quick to think of cruel things. It really interested me. It was rather unsettling, but I just dismissed those feelings as my mind adjusting and adapting to the current situation that surrounded me. This was a harsh world we lived in, after all, and to survive in such an environment, one needed not just any strength but quite a lot of resilience and fortitude. Time dragged on painfully as I waited anxiously for the Council. The heavy silence that filled the room felt almost like a physical thing, as if it was pressing against me with only the occasional, muffled sound of my own breathing breaking that stillness. At long last, the heavy double doors at the very end of the long corridor creaked open with their familiar screech, and the council members began filtering in one by one. Their faces told a tale of reluctance and overwhelming fatigue; it was quite obvious they were not morning people. I straightened in my seat, shifting just a little to get a better view as I watched, my eyes narrowing in concentration, one by one, take their places. "Let's take a moment to observe and see what kinds of excuses they will come up with this time," I muttered quietly to myself, steeling my resolve for what was to come.