Sovereign

Halia, Kingdom of Orland

University of Halia

Three minutes after the assassination

Another weekend morning, another messy morning it was for the Princess herself. Crown Princess Amelie Ludendorf - was perhaps not the most ladylike person in these types of mornings. After practicing magic till late at night, or rushing university deadlines, gracefulness was quite the last on the list of expected attributes that one could observe of her this morning.

"Dearie me…I still need two more hours…" Such sleepy words came from her, as she dragged herself up much like a sloth. With a yawn, she made the mistake of looking at the digital clock. It seemed that it was already nine in the morning, and to sleep further would be blasphemous. This dashed her hopes of flopping back into the bed's embrace.

One should, however, refrain from blaming the poor girl. Why? The act of practicing magic was no joke for a lady. It took the use of much mana: mana that must be regained somehow. Thus was the act of taking a few hours of sleep.

Even still, discipline was paramount, its enforcement non-negotiable. Slapped her face, she did, which woke her up further. Finally, she could drag herself out of her bedroom, taking a detour to brush her teeth. As she did so, she took a good look in the mirror.

A bit messy, she supposed, and so she fixed herself up. Especially her golden-blonde hair, which she had always maintained well. Royalty and appearances and all that.

After such a hasty dose of self-care, she made her way toward her living room to finally begin her day. Her dorm room, fit for royalty as expected, was one of lavishness. The furniture and amenities it boasted - were something a commoner would be outraged by.

Her breakfast, soon prepared by her (alongside her lovely morning tea) was lying on a table in front of her couch. She flopped gracefully in the seat, already wide awake at last. After one sip of her tea, she finally decided to take her remote control and turn on the flatscreen before her.

The morning news was what she wanted to watch. Well, if news at nine in the morning even counted as morning news.

"-And we can see four unidentified armed men firing what was later identified as LG22 SMGs at the Queen herself-"

Her teacup shattered, her eyes widened as her skin turned pale, and of course, even the remote control decided to fall off. Shock plastered on her face, she could not believe it. There it was on her desired "morning news". An assassination. Of her beloved mother. In broad daylight. While she was asleep. Quite literally mere moments ago.

"...Mother?"

Immediately, denial mode activated in her brain, as expected. Her rationale - her mother was adept at magic. Protection magic, such as a shield, for example, was easy for her. Even if the rascals dumped their magazines at her, no way in any heaven could they succeed.

Right?

Of course, she wasn't fully convinced by her delusions. Her hand wandered to pick up her phone, the urge to make a call rising inside.

"-There is still no confirmation-"

Oh, the sweet words they were. See? Her mother had a chance. Of course, she had. Just a mere glance at the TV showed that the dreaded news merely played the same footage in repetition. Footages that hadn't showed her mother being peppered like Swiss cheese. Just mere footage of the four rascals shooting at…well, something.

Even still, she was shaking and sweating bullets. Regardless of her mother's chances, someone still tried to harm her. Perhaps an injury had even been afflicted. But chance, there was, she told herself.

She picked up her phone, still hands shaky in nervousness. A barrage of notifications, messages, and calls naturally appeared. But, she saw the most important one of them all as she deemed. Her brother, Albert, and his call. He had merely returned four days ago, fighting in the Great War for three years. Scarcely had she met him in those years too. This indeed counted as one such saddening type of reunion.

She accepted the call.

"Amelie? Are you alright? The news? Have you heard of it?"

"Oh…yes, I'm fine, I'm fine." Of course, that was bollocks. She was not. "And I've heard of it, yes."

"Alright, just stay over there. I'll pick you up-"

"Brother…is mother alright? Albert? Albert answer me!"

No quick answers came from the other line. Ominous heavy breathing didn't count. Eventually, of course, an answer came back. A reply laced with repressed grief. A deep hint of sorry-ness as well. Such combination, dreadful combination, naturally worried her.

"It's alright, Amelie. Just stay safe, and calm over there. Everything will be alright. Everything…will be alright."

The line dropped. As did her phone and tears. Knocks banged upon her door, as the University's security detail rushed to secure the Crown Princess. When the door was busted open, all they found was her sobbing in despair.

+++

In just a few mere dozen minutes, her brother had arrived. He leaned against his armored SUV, which he had always utilized in duty. Clearly, her brother hadn't had the time to make the switch between his military and civilian vehicles when he arrived.

Her peers, classmates, and even friends tried to follow her as she was escorted out of the premises, the guards keeping them away. So did crowds of other students. The event of the Princess leaving took their unwanted attention.

Albert seemed detached as she approached him, merely glancing with suspicion at the crowds. An eyepatch was the recent addition to his 'dead' appearance, a result of an injury he had taken in the war. The bridge of the ship he commanded was once hit by a missile, the eyepatch perhaps its most striking result.

Worse, she remembered how she treated him when he was recovering. Abandoned.

A wave of guilt washed her.

When he looked at her, all he gave was a quick nod, before he ushered her into his SUV. She complied completely, still dazed and weakened by the shocking events.

His feet pressed on the gas pedal, and as their SUV moved forward, the security convoy formed behind and in front of them. She was about to ask where his driver was, but…

"Before you ask, I drive for myself."

"...Sure."

The two fell silent, with the sounds of the radio and the news broadcast being heard alone. Each word that came from the airwaves, made her pale further and further. Albert, concerned at her little sister, promptly turned it off.

Silence fell inside the vehicle.

With great struggle, however, she spoke up and broke such silence.

"Albert…she's…is she gone?"

Struggling in grief as no answers came, her tears pooled in her eyes. Albert subtly glanced at her, the subtle expression of his showing grief as well. Indeed, he was cracking too. The weak sobs of Amelie further fueled his crumble.

"I'm…"

The steering wheel was gripped harder, as he struggled to return an answer.

"I'm sorry. She's gone. I…I'm sorry."

For many minutes, her world completely shattered as she stared at him, tears lining her cheeks as she did. Albert continued to drive, a burning rage of fire igniting within him. His mother…not the best one perhaps, but his mother still, was shot by terrorists. Shot gruesomely.

"Why?"

Whatever crackpot conspiracy theory he had, he dared not to utter. No answer came for him, but he needed to say something at the very least. For his little sister. For the new Queen.

"We will find out."

*TV Opening.*

"-As the investigations continue, members of the Royal Court suspect that the military-"

"-General Heindhöff calls the Royal Guard 'incompetent' for letting the Queen-"

"-Male Rights protestors celebrating the death of Her Majesty-"

"-the army refused to demobilize wartime formations, as General Heindhöff said this morning, 'until the General Elections concludes' with many fearing-"

"-another terroristic school shooting by savage young men-"

"-Redemption Front gaining momentum in the polls-"

"-the coronation will go as planned,' the Prime Minister announced this Tuesday-"

*TV Closing.*

+++

Ivory Square

January 1, 2024

Such a hasty coronation, smack dab on the first day of the year - a result of the fallout of her mother being killed, was not a blessing, to say the least. Just after the New Year's celebration (which she didn't celebrate), the media and the world turned their attention to the new 19-year-old Queen of Orland.

Queen Amelie Ludendorf.

The Kingdom of Orland, arguably the greatest power that today graced the world of Pollos was inherited by her. Thus, as a result, her inexperienced hands would wield the most power anyone in the world could have.

With great attention, her nation and the world itself watched. Watched as her coronation, which would place the fate of billions and an order that lasted for centuries in her hands.

A fake, forced, regal smile graced her face as the crown was lowered upon her head. She struggled to merely look at her audience. How could she deal with them, she didn't know.

All eyes were on her. From the most powerful matriarchs of Orland's aristocratic houses to the neutral and even resentful faces of the Orlish High Command, to the protective eyes of the Royal Guard, to the greedy smirks of the corporate businessmen, these factions all looked at her, expecting her loyalty.

An irony not lost to her. The Queen herself, supposed to command her underlings and expect their loyalty, was now expected to be loyal to them.

She could only count on her fingers the few souls she could comfortably glance at. Her brother Albert, her innocent little sister Alice, and her few friends in this crowd of shadowy elites.

Her coronation soon ended.

With controlled breaths, she soon made her steps to the podium. At last, she would give her first address to her people. Twistedly, on the same podium where her dear mother was killed.

A morbid, almost silent chuckle of despair escaped her. It was simply too dark for her.

The cameras, the eyes, the press, and hundreds of thousands of attendees gathered in the Ivory Square. The microphone awaited her first words, as a chill shot up her spine.

My first speech…this is it.

Albert advised her to prepare a written speech. A preventative measure - something she could read so she wouldn't fumble and mess up her first speech as a Queen.

But she refused. Everything she would say would come from her heart, she told him.

I swear, I won't be like them.

Those matriarchs who looked down upon men for being magic-less.

I won't be a cold-hearted politician.

Those that promised yet never delivered.

Or a brutal monarch.

Those who spilled blood in the millions for their thrones.

Or another crook.

Those who plundered the taxes their people toiled for.

Or a spineless coward.

Those who shied away from change in fear of reprisal.

Or a warmonger.

Those who sent millions of young men to the trenches to die like rats.

No…

She took a deep breath, her final preparations. Deep inside, she doubted, and her mind called her idealism a folly. Yet her heart refused such notions. This was her dream. This was her destiny.

I'll give them a benevolent Sovereign.

Her words came out loud and passionate on the loudspeakers, somehow pulling the heartstrings of millions.

"CITIZENS OF ORLAND! I PROMISE YOU, CHANGE AND HOPE!"