Awakened by a nightmare, the queen of Aestonia wandered into her praying room. Sitting bare of clothes, she chanted one mantra after the other and continued for an hour. And yet the unhinged imagery of her dreams lingered along with the taste of silver in her mouth.
"Is everything okay, my lady?" Asked a shadowed whisperer.
Lifting her head, Astoria looked around for a moment but couldn't find the source of the feminine voice. Shaking her head off of doubt, she picked herself up and backed away from the idol. Once outside the veil that parted her room in two, she decided to respond to the voice.
"William, he tried to kill Wolf," taking a brief pause, she turned her head to the open window. "I should've seen through his lies, as his story doesn't make a lot of sense."
Walking towards the moonlight, the queen closed her eyes for a moment, and her bare body was quickly covered in a gold-threaded gown. Lifting her head again, she peered out of the window to admire from a great distance the port of Aestonia–the crown jewels of her kingdom.
"Is there anything we can do to ease your unrest, my lady?" Asked the elusive shadow, lingering right by Astoria's shoulders. Brushing her hand, however, she urged it to get away.
"You'll do no such thing," assuming the intentions behind those words, the queen gathered that the shadow wanted to get rid of William. Lazily breathing in the ocean breeze, she kept looking in the distance and ignored her duties. "He is my son, the last of what remains of the old king. To get rid of him would be disastrous for citizen politics."
Masking her love for her son behind a convenient excuse, she let her eyes wander to the already busy market streets. Hawkers were drawing their carts to their usual selling spots, bakers were acquiring fresh milk for bread and pastries, and those who sold conveniences like a quick cup of tea to the sellers while they worked, had their roadside stoves cooking breakfast, teas and other morning treats.
"Call Hestia, tell her to bring me some tea," said the queen to the Whisperer and without a word or a sound, the woman slipped out of her room.
The queen's eyes still wandered through the streets, with the people growing in numbers as the sun rose in the sky. The struggle of a commoner, their usual routine consisting of the same work, made Astoria wonder about life without luxury. That would've been hell for her, and yet she was drawn to it.
'Thirty-eight years old, and I already feel like I've lived a century thanks to the king…' Being the wife of a man who'd lived a hundred years, his experience brushed off on her, but more than anything, his age had drained her mentally. 'It didn't help that he stayed locked in his room, I wanted to do so much in my youth. Sail the sea myself, hunt for food on another island, maybe even some adventuring…'
Getting far too distracted by the past, she shook her head and turned away from the window. Leaning back against the window frame, she glanced around her room, a dull shade of pink and grey. She'd spent most of her life trapped in this open prison, directing wars, learning about politics, and nurturing not only two children but a grown, old man who behaved like one as well.
"What use is power if I don't use it?" She pondered some more.
A second-generation Nephilim, the child of a half-angel. Astoria was born a radiant child with unmatched power and fertility–so much so that even the aged sperm of the king managed to provide them with a child. William, the only kid she ever gave birth to, not because she couldn't but for the lack of ability on the king's part.
Caressing her belly, her eyes reminiscing over the past, Astoria reminded herself of the feeling of a child floating inside of her belly. A smile flashed across her lips; there was no greater feeling–none nothing whatsoever.
"Only one, and that's why I don't wanna lose you, my dear son…" With the king gone, Astoria knew her fertility was of no use. Dare she harbors a child outside the royal bloodline, that kid would suffer through hell worse than Wolf.
As she continued to ponder the thought, Hestia eventually arrived. Carrying a tray with a kettle and two cups and no signs of poison, she placed it on the floor–level table and urged the queen to take a seat before she could herself.
Settling on the ground sofa, Astoria leaned against a round pillow and brought a cup right next to her lips. Soaking in the aroma of the brew, she felt at ease, and her worries began easing up a little.
"Your Highness, if I may–"
"I know William was lying, Hestia, you don't need to tell me," Astoria responded, rightfully assuming what the maid had to say.
Although a bit shocked that she knew, the head maid couldn't bring herself to pursue the question further.
'An only blood child, I've seen plenty die in my hands–no wonder she's being lenient…' No stranger to tragedy, she kept hushed and picked a cup as well. Sipping alongside the queen, the ceramic maid decided to change the subject.
"Tomorrow is the day," she whispered, heaving a sigh right after taking a sip.
"Mhmn~" Astoria hummed in response.
There were a lot of preparations to be done, and the queen was laden with that burden. From the management of the event to the monetisation of the gathered crowd, she had to figure everything out and implement it today.
"Get the carriages ready, and you're coming with me to the coliseum," Astoria ordered, and with a smile, Hestia nodded back.
Finally, the day wasn't far when the new king would be crowned. But on whose favor would the chips fall? William, Wolf or someone else? Only time would tell, but the wait wasn't long…