Perfect Flaws

44. Thrones of Lust

(If you want to see their outfits, they're at the end! Scroll down!)

Rhea

My halls are a mess, the rooms in this estate are chaotic. The ballroom has people hurrying in and out, carrying tables, plates, decorations, new chairs. Everyone is getting ready for the ball.

Maids and servants are up and down the halls of my home.

Soldiers are training harder than ever, new weapons are lined up in the armory.

Questions are being thrown at me constantly.

Planning everything for this one event is exhausting. It isn't just the ball I'm planning, it's possible attacks, possible evacuations, outcomes that could happen. It's securing different parts of my kingdom, of my estate, making sure that my citizens won't be caught in crossfire.

I've gotten death threats from letters, support from others, it's tiring, completely draining.

I have so much tension in my body, like I'm never able to settle down. Constantly on the run, constantly looking over my shoulder.

Eventually, I make it into the throne room. A single throne chair sits in the middle of the room. It stands tall on a risen platform, its presence commanding on its own.

The throne has gold elegant carved designs around the edges, while a bold velvet red of fabric covers the center.

I walk across the empty floor, my heels clicking with each step. Eventually, I make it to the throne.

They must've stored away the other throne, considering it's just me, and I don't exactly have a husband.

I walk up the three steps, turning around to sit into my throne. I put my arms on the rests of the chair, shifting myself every so often, feeling the weight of the chair and the significance it holds.

It's odd, I thought I would be uncomfortable sitting here for the first time. I thought it would be unfamiliar to finally acknowledge myself as ruler, as the Queen of Ovantasa.

But it isn't.

This feels right.

The weight, the pressure, the title, it feels right.

A year ago, I wouldn't have been able to say that, to think that. But now? After everything? I want this.

I am royalty.

I'm a Windsor, a queen to thousands of citizens.

I hear an echo of the double doors opening. I see a striking blonde man walk through, he stands tall, dressed in all black. Black dress pants, and a black shirt fitted to his body. His eyes gaze into mine.

"You look stunning," he grins, watching me as I cross my legs. I look down, I'm wearing a dark olive green fitted dress, that goes to my knees. It has long sleeves and a slight corset in the front.

I smile, looking back up at him, "I know."

He chuckles, shutting the doors behind him. He makes his way over, stopping just below me.

"You seem stressed out," he mumbles.

I sigh, leaning back, resting my head, "there's so much to prepare, to secure, and it's exhausting. I want this, I do, but hell I'm drained. My entire body is tense and I can't get rid of it."

He nods, listening to me. Encouraging me to go on, as he walks up the steps, stopping just in front of me.

"I have no doubt that we're going to be at war in just days, and I'm worried that not everyone is prepared. None of the men and women on that field have been in a battle, none of them have experienced war, and I'm just-" I pause, "What are you doing?"