The Queen and her Wolf

Chapter One

        "My Queen?"

        Reality snapped back into place as my mind was brought back to the present, the very dull present. I glanced lazily to my right. There, dressed in elegant, form fitting garb of my favourite shade of deep red, was my ever present advisor. His blonde hair was always sleek and his blood red eyes were ever attentive. "Yes, Samuel?"

        "The new catch is here." He said, as I knew he would. This place ran like clockwork. "Shall I send for them to be brought in for inspection?"

        "I suppose so." I sighed.

        Samuel gestured for one of the entrance guards to carry out his intent. The nameless man flitted out of the shadowy room without a word and I turned back to my advisor.

        "I don’t know why we continue with this tradition. I don’t need a personal guard. I can protect myself perfectly fine." I lifted my glass and stared at the dark liquid, swirling it around and around.

        "With all due respect your Majesty …"

        Samuel paused, awaiting my permission to speak freely. I waved him on as I took a sip of the warm fluid, savouring its richness.

        "Your late father set certain rules for our people to live by, as we have for millennia. To break those traditions now-no matter how inconsequential it seems-would be to turn your kingdom, and the lives of its people, upside down." He bowed his head ever so slightly, fearing repercussion for his brash words.

        Taking another sip, I pursed my lips. Yes. My late father had ruled this kingdom with an iron fist. He had kept order for almost a thousand years before his death, and still that order remained. Often I pondered why my kingdom needed a ruler when it could practically run itself.

        "You know, Samuel, I can’t help but wonder if I am only on this throne to serve as a reminder."

        "A reminder of what my Queen? And to whom?"

        "A reminder, to those who would break our laws and traditions, that they have someone to whom they are accountable. This kingdom may be one of the single greatest legacies in my bloodline, but if there is no-one to sit on this throne," I tapped the padded arm of my glorified chair, "then it will all fall to ruin."

        "I believe that that is true of any kingdom, your Grace." I could feel his curious gaze on me so I turned to stare him in the eyes.

        "And what if I were the one to break our traditions? Who would hold me accountable?"

        Samuel appeared flustered momentarily. I suppose in his mind I was speaking treason. "Well," he said, gaining some composure, "you are aware of the high council that-"

        "-my father put together to uphold the sanctity of our laws above the desires of the kingdoms ruler? Yes." I said, taking a resentful sip. "I am familiar with the council."

        "Then you know that they would most likely step in if you attempted any … unsavoury changes to our ways of life." I could imagine the stress I was putting Samuel under with my hypotheticals, nonetheless, he trudged on. "Your father was very pleased with the laws he governed. The way we all conducted our lives was much more befitting to the superiority of our race than it had previously been as well. The last thing your father did before he passed was to form that council so that his traditions-our traditions-would carry on unchanged. That way he knew his legacy would forever be intact."

        Samuels’s eyes were earnest as he spoke. He believed that we led fulfilling lives. I didn’t. My own beliefs told me that the day my father had created that wretched council was the day he’d shackled me to one monotonous day after another. I was merely babysitter to a nation.