The Girl Who Would Be Queen

Crown Princess Irun of Edessa was embroidering tablecloths with her handmaidens when she learned that her twin brother Henfrey and king of Edessa had been blinded.

It came in the form of a letter delivered by a messenger bird from Literra, the kingdom that Henfrey had recently traveled to for a state visit.

Irun was laughing at a story Jevelyn was telling the group involving a cousin of hers and a hive of angry bees he accidentally stirred when the doors to the drawing room opened and one of her guards stationed outside poked his head in.

“Your Highness, there’s a message for you from His Majesty, the King of Literra.”

Irun beckoned the guard in, and he handed the letter to her. He gave her a sharp bow before leaving the room.

“What’s that about?” Brie asked.

Irun sighed as she lifted the red royal seal that shut the envelope. "Henfrey probably did something to ruin Edessa's reputation. You know how insufferable he can be.”

Irun’s handmaidens giggled as she pulled the fine parchment out of the envelope and unfolded it.

She froze as still as a statue as she read the contents of the letter.

Bandits ambushed Henfrey’s procession to the capital of Literra two days ago. They killed several guards, and Henfrey had his eyes slashed and was now blind.

More details about the attack followed, the number of bandits, the extent of the soldiers’ injuries, and so forth, but Irun read the words He’s blind repeatedly, unable to focus on anything else.

“Your Highness?” Nidya asked. “What is it?”

Henfrey would never fence again. He would never play chess again. He would never race his horse against Irun’s again.

“Your Highness?”

Irun shot up to her feet, her sewing materials and the tablecloth she was working on spilling to the floor. Her handmaidens rose to their feet as well.

“I need to be alone,” Irun blurted, and she dropped the letter from her long, nimble fingers before she turned around and departed the room. She meandered down the hall, nearly stumbling on her way to the courtyard. She slowly sat down on a bench and stared blankly down at the cobblestone ground.

Her brother was blind. Her brother was blind. Her brother was blind.

Her brother was blind, and her father was dead.

Six months ago, Irun and Henfrey’s father, King Oswyn, started complaining of fatigue and loss of appetite. A few days later, he started getting the chills. And just the day after that, he collapsed suddenly before dinner. He spent the next three weeks bedridden with a terrible fever, drifting in and out of consciousness before he succumbed to his illness in the middle of the night.

King Oswyn had always been a robust, healthy man. Nobody expected him to die before seeing his 40^th birthday. But because he did, Henfrey was forced to ascend the throne at the ripe age of nineteen.

Henfrey and Irun’s relationship didn’t change much from the quarrelsome one they developed over the years even after Henfrey became king. The two of them traded insults like they rolled off each other’s tongues. And Henfrey loved to prank Irun whenever he could, leading to her chasing him halfway around the palace and yelling at him while he roared with laughter, to the amusement of the servants.

Her brother was blind.

It was just a week ago that he was patting her head like she was a little child like he always did before he left the palace.

“Be a good girl while I’m gone, okay?” He would say. He never let Irun forget he was twelve minutes older than her.

Irun would always swat his hand away and he would always duck away and laugh at her, a wide grin on his face.

Irun sat there in silence for a while as the afternoon sun warmed her skin.

“There you are.”

Irun turned around to see her mother, Queen Consort Beatrix, standing there, dressed in one of her finest dresses and fanning herself with one of her many decorative fans. Irun remembered her mother would be hosting a tea party soon for some of the noble ladies of the kingdom.

“Mother? Did they—”

“Yes, one of your handmaidens came to fetch me. She told me everything.”

If Irun didn’t know any better, it looked like her mother was annoyed.

Irun and Henfrey cried their eyes out at their father’s funeral, but their mother looked almost pleased. Their parents had already taken to residing in chambers as far away from each other as possible years ago and barely interacted with one another except mostly for court appearances.

Irun knew her parents didn’t love each other. She knew her grandfather forced her father to marry Irun’s mother, a former princess of the kingdom of Ibrit, to strengthen ties between the two kingdoms. She knew her mother only agreed to marry her father because Edessa was one of the richest and most powerful kingdoms in the land and she would live a life even better than the one she was used to in Ibrit. She knew her mother didn’t love her or Henfrey because she never wanted to spend time with them and dumped them on their nannies whenever she could while they were growing up. She knew she never visited Irun’s father while he laid dying on his sickbed.

Irun knew all this but thought that because Henfrey was her son, a child she would give birth to, she would feel something, anything, by what happened to him.

But there wasn’t a hint of sadness in her icy-blue eyes.

Irun never felt a connection with her mother, but somehow, she didn’t realize how much a monster she was until that moment.

Her mother sighed, looking far off into the distance. “I told that boy to be careful while he was away. Now look what’s he done…” Her eyes flickered back to Irun. “You better not mess things up. If something happens to you, the throne will pass over to your father’s dreadful brother Osoric and what do you think will happen to me? Do you think he or his even more dreadful wife will want to keep me around the palace? No, they hate me, so they’re going to send me off somewhere where they don’t have to see me.” She stopped fanning herself and her eyes narrowed. “And I refuse to let them throw me out of this palace.”

Irun blinked once. “I’m…I’m the queen now?”

“Of course you’re the queen now!” Irun’s mother snapped, making her flinch. “Your brother can’t rule anymore now that’s he blind. He’s practically crippled.” She made a noise of disgust. “So please do try and stay healthy, will you? We don’t need any more accidents around here.”

Irun stared wordlessly at her mother.

Her mother pursed her lips. “Get yourself together, will you? You’ll be meeting with the council later this evening so they can swear you in as queen. And then we can start planning your coronation. It will do you no good if you stare at them like you’ve lost your senses.”

And with that, Irun’s mother turned on her heels and breezed out of the courtyard.

---

Not too long after her mother left the courtyard, Irun retreated to her chamber, her mind racing.

She hadn’t been trained to rule. She and Henfrey may have been twins, but he was born first, making him the older sibling and the heir to the throne. He was the one their father trained to succeed him, the one who got the most education. Irun’s education paled in comparison to the education Henfrey received. She didn’t even know all the names of all the lords who made up the council. And now she had to rule the whole kingdom? And what about Henfrey’s fiancée, Princess Ysabel of Crevalon? They were supposed to wed next month. It was a match set up by his mother and the council, but the two of them developed genuine feelings for one another. They wouldn’t be like Irun and Henfrey’s parents. Would they still get married?

In the end, Irun didn’t meet with the council that evening. She gave a message for one of her handmaidens to deliver to the council saying that she wouldn’t proceed with the ascension ceremony until further notice. The council members most likely whispered amongst themselves about how Irun wasn’t ready to be queen, but she just couldn’t face them now, and she needed an excuse. How Henfrey met with the council hours after their passed was a mystery.

She penned a letter to the king of Literra, expressing her shock by the news of Henfrey’s accident, relief that he was alive, and confusion by the news that she was a queen now, confessing how she was putting off meeting with the council indefinitely. She sent the message off by messenger bird.

Four days passed without any word from Literra before Irun’s mother demanded that she meet with the council on the last day of the week in three days, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. It was like she thought something would happen to Irun if she didn’t take the throne soon enough.

Irun paced up and down her chamber, wringing her hands. Sweat prickled all over her skin. Her stomach was churning, and her heart was beating so loudly she could hear it in her ears, thudding away like the gallop of a horse.

The crown wasn’t even on her head yet and she was already feeling the weight of it.

“I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this…” She murmured repeatedly.

But she didn’t have a choice. She didn’t have any younger siblings for her to abdicate the throne for. Her parents disliked each other so much they could barely stand to be in the same room as each other, let alone the same bed. Shortly after the twins were born, the council tried pressing her father to produce more heirs, preferably sons, but he adamantly refused. King Oswyn was not a man who could be easily persuaded to change his mind. His towering figure and piercing gray eyes could intimidate any man who was in the room with him, even fellow kings.

Irun was sure the council didn’t want her as their new monarch. For starters, she was a woman, and she hadn’t been trained much in political matters since she was never expected to take the throne. Henfrey and Princess Ysabel would have children one day, which would push Irun further and further down the line of succession. Irun would be a princess consort one day upon marriage, maybe even a queen consort like her mother if she married the heir or future heir to a kingdom, but never a queen in her own right. She felt ill-equipped to grasp the reigns of the kingdom. The council had no choice but to accept her as the queen as the next in line for the throne but that didn’t mean they had to like it.

“I can’t—”

The doors opened and Irun looked up, expecting to see her mother so the latter could lecture her more. Instead, she saw the head of one of her guards poking in.

“Your High—Your Majesty,” the guard quickly said. Technically, Irun was already the queen, it just hadn’t been made official. “A messenger bird came from Crevalon with a message from..." He hesitated. "...His Majesty., king of Edessa.” 

Irun’s eyes widened. She wasn’t expecting to hear back from Henfrey. She nearly ran to accept the letter from the guard, tearing it open.

Dearest Sister

         Just so you know, Stephen is writing this letter for me. I’m sure your handwriting is as bad as ever, even though I can’t see it. Yes, it’s true. I’m blind. I can’t see anything anymore. No doubt Mother is furious with me. I didn’t tell you this but while we were preparing funeral arrangements for Father, she gave me a lecture about how I needed to do my best as the new king and not do anything that would cause me to lose the throne. Can you believe that? Our father wasn’t even dead for a day yet and she was already talking about me being king. I probably would still be able to see had I stayed in the carriage during the attack that took my sight away but Father didn’t raise a coward, and I refused to sit back while men laid down their lives to protect me. I don’t regret anything.

I had King Vor send a letter to Ysabel after he sent that letter to you. I didn’t think I would still be able to marry her like this since her father wanted her to marry a king, and I am a king no more. I thought for sure he would call off the engagement. But he didn’t, and Ysabel still wants to marry me. I will be leaving to return home within the next day or two, but after Ysabel and I get married, I will be moving permanently to Crevalon.

Apparently, you’re worried about taking the throne and I can’t imagine why. You’re the perfect choice to succeed me. You’re more intelligent than I would like to admit, you’re more clever than I give you credit for, and you’re stronger than I'll ever be. You are one of the most amazing people I know. Father didn’t need to teach you to be a queen because you already are one.

Irun had to blink away tears that were threatening her vision.

I made journals of nearly everything Father taught me which are in my study on the bottom of the bookshelf. The names of all the council members and what they oversee are all in the gold one. Make sure you memorize them all before the ascension ceremony. There are also books on the bookshelf that will be of use to you, particularly the ones on politics and history. You don’t need to know everything now so take your time.

Don’t let the council intimidate you. They’re a bunch of old farts anyway. Irun snorted through the tears. You just need to show them that you are as every bit a monarch as Father. And I know you will. I know you’re going to do so many remarkable things for the kingdom. The people are going to love you just as much as they loved Father. I only wish I could see you on your coronation day. I’m sure you will look beautiful.

Irun’s eyes teared up even more.

You’re going to have some trying times as queen. Every ruler does. But you’re going to get through this, and you’re going to be the best queen ever. Edessa is going to continue flourishing with you at the helm. I have every bit of faith in you. I know you’ll do me and Father proud.

I will see you soon. I love you.

                                                                                Your still handsome brother,

                                                                                Henfrey

Tears poured down Irun’s cheeks after she read the words I love you. Henfrey never said that to her. Despite all the teasing, all the jokes, all the pranks, Henfrey really did care about her. She never would have guessed he would write a letter like this to her. It was so…genuine.

Where did he learn to talk like that?

Irun read the letter over three times. She appreciated all the praise Henfrey showered her with, but she still didn’t feel she was ready. But if Henfrey believed in her…

Irun went to Henfrey’s study and gathered a few books in her arms. She gave instructions to the guards posted outside her chamber not to let anyone in unless it was an emergency.

And she read. She read while taking walks around the courtyard. She studied while finishing the tableclothes with her handmaidens. The only time she didn’t read was during meals. But that was only so her handmaidens could quiz her on what she learned.

“What are the main exports of the kingdom of Prophis?” Jevelyn asked.

“Cloth, tin, and salt,” Irun answered.

“Which king declared war on the kingdom of Travunia 200 years ago?” Brie asked.

“King Cylix of Haldaerk.”

"Which philosopher said, “Death doesn’t care if you’re a royal or a commoner, it affects us all the same?” Nidya asked.

“Twovale.”

Irun’s fears about becoming queen slowly faded away the more she studied. She shuffled in and out of Henfrey’s study, sometimes choosing to stay in there and study his map of the world.

She could tell her mother was pleased by the way she looked at Irun over the dining table. But Irun didn’t care. She wasn’t trying to impress her mother. She was trying to impress everyone else.

It wasn’t until Irun learned the names of all the men who made up her council and their positions like the back of her hand that she really felt like she was ready. A surge of emotion welled up inside her, feelings she hadn’t felt since the day she learned Henfrey had gone blind.

Confidence and determination.

So, when it came time for the ascension ceremony, Irun marched right into the council meeting room with her head held up high, her shoulders squared, and her chest puffed out, looking more dignifed than ever. The council members stared at her with varying expressions of surprise—raised eyebrows, wide eyes, slack jaws. Any doubts they had about her reign as queen were about to be laid to rest.

Henfrey was no longer the king of Edessa.

Irun was no longer the crown princess of Edessa.

Irun was now the queen of Edessa.