The funeral dress was itchy.

The lace grated against my skin, turning it red in seconds. The cotton cloth didn't exactly do that well in terms of comfort, either, since the pieces of lint on the cotton felt like boiling rocks pounding against my sweat, wiping away the make-up that Euryale had applied.

It didn't help that I was wearing my horrible socks, too.

Oh, well. I could change out of this after the funeral.

I stepped into the limo, caressing the smooth leather underneath my fingers as I dropped into my seat. Adonis sat beside me, while Ariadne and Cecilia seated across from us.

I stared at my siblings as the limo started up, the slight rumble of the engine propelling the limo forward. They were silent, looking out the windows.

I coughed.

No response.

I nudged the prince that sat beside me. Adonis looked at me with a weird face, then turned back to the window.

I waited another second before coughing once more. "So..."

No reply.

"How are you?"

Cecilia shrugged, Ariadne ignored me, and Adonis groaned.

"Shut up, please."

"That's no way to talk to your queen!" I teased.

"That's no way to talk to your brother," Adonis said, turning away with a huff.

"Look, I know you never really knew mom because you-know-what, but we loved her, okay? And sometimes when you're grieving, you don't want to talk." Cecilia patted the side of her seat, leaning back and yawning.

"You seemed so talkative yesterday."

"Yeah, there's something called the five stages of grief? Denial is a thing, you know."

I tried to hide my confusion. "Uh... right."

"Where's Ivan?" Adonis asked. He sounded hoarse, as if he were being forced to speak.

Ariadne let out a small sob and Cecilia shushed her, her usually fierce eyes softening. She reached over to hug her, and Ariadne sniffed. And then, like a broken dam, burst, tears falling out as she buried her head in Cecilia's lap, letting out a wail.

Cecilia sighed, patting Ariadne's perfect curls. "I don't know; he must be running late."

"He's never late. He probably got an emergency call or something and had to run without telling us."

"Mom, I love you-"

"Ari! Get yourself together!" Cecilia gave Ariadne a hard slap across the face as she got up. Ariadne grimaced, rubbing her face where Cecilia had slapped her. "The funeral hasn't even started yet, you sensitive idiot!"

"I-I'm sorry-" Ariadne sniffed, then glared at me. "It's all her fault."

"What?!" My dress still scraped my collarbone. "What did I do?"

Ariadne didn't answer, turning back to the window, wiping away her tears.

"Come on, Ari. Give Helen a chance." Cecilia's brown eyes looked hesitantly at me. I looked at my feet.

"She killed a sister I never got the chance to meet, and she probably killed mom! Next thing you know, she's killed Ivan and then you and then me and then-" Ariadne sobbed again, her voice cracking. "She just gets away with it!"

"I know, but you can't do anything about it. Just suck it up and understand that she's in power here."

Ariadne nodded, looking up at me again. She sighed, then forced a cautious smile, holding out a wet hand.

"Truce?" she barely croaked.

I took her hand, sending her what I hoped was a comforting smile. "Of course."

Adonis, who had been watching the spectacle, turned to us as the limo hit a bump, sending us up-and-down like a merry-go-round.

"I know I shouldn't do this..." He opened a small paper bag. "... but I baked some cookies. I thought it'd make you all feel better."

He handed Ariadne a pink sugar cookie, which she politely devoured, stars in her eyes. Then, he gave Cecilia a pop-rock cookie, and she giggled as the cookie crunched under her mouth, several dozen pops driving her ecstatic almost immediately. He turned to me, suddenly looking sheepish.

"I didn't know what you liked," he said. "But I asked the prison for your preferences. They said you liked their chocolate chip cookies. I know it isn't much, but-"

I took the cookie immediately and bit into the heavenly meat. The sweet flavor exploded in my mouth, the chewy texture of the cookie rendering me speechless with envy and awe. It was heaven, each bite just as delicious as the next.

It was... Exquisite. Delicious. Delectable.

"You're a really, really good baker, Adonis," I said, licking the crumbs from my fingers.

"Thanks."

"N-no. Really. You're great. This is... the best cookie I've ever had."

"... Thanks."

"How did you learn?" I asked.

His eyes widened, and he looked away, tapping the window nervously. "I snuck down to the kitchen. The chef taught me how to bake and... I... I've been practicing for years."

"You're really talented." I felt like he could sense the awe in my voice because his back straightened, a small smile playing on his lips. 

"... T-thanks."

I remembered how I loved the cookies that the prison had distributed. I would eat them immediately, savoring the flavor for as long as I could. But times had changed, and now I was the Queen, privileged, lavish, spoiled. I could eat as many cookies as I wanted, whenever I wanted.

Suddenly, the limo came to a halt. I could see rows of graves, flowers decorating some of the more beautiful gravestones, but the simpler ones, the ones with just a single block of rock with hastily carved words, held little to no decoration.

I stood up, but Adonis pulled me down, slipping in front of me. "We go by the reverse line of succession. I'm first since I'm the youngest."

I sat still as Adonis hobbled out of the limo, several cameras flashing on and off as he walked away.

Cecilia still laid in her seat, her eyes closed. I grinned, poking at her playfully.

She yelped, sitting upright immediately. To my surprise, a laugh bubbled from my lips and Cecilia grinned, rolling her eyes. She strutted out of the limo, posing for the cameras like a fashion model.

Ariadne wiped her eyes again, looking at me. "Does it look like I was crying?"

"No," I said, scratching the lace that was oh-so uncomfortable on my skin.

She nodded, stepping out of the limo with practiced grace. The cameras clicked and clacked; the reporters mumbling amongst themselves.

Okay. It was my turn.

I stood up, striding to the door of the limo, taking a deep breath as I stepped outside. For a moment, no cameras clicked, and the reporters gawked at me.

"Isn't Ivan supposed to be next?"

"Silly Queen Helen. She's so incompetent."

The cameras clicked again, and I followed Ariadne, passing through waves of reporters.

"Yes, Stephanie, our beloved Queen has forgotten the line of succession," a Latino man said to the camera. "Perhaps she thinks she is less than Prince Ivan?"

"As she should!" Another person spoke up. Several people laughed, but the majority cast worried glances at me.

I walked up the stairs, picking up my dress, trudging up the stone steps. Click-click. I rushed to keep up with Ariadne. Click-click.

"Dan, do you have any guesses why our dear Prince Ivan did not ride with his siblings today?"

"We cannot be sure," Dan said, a microphone hanging in front of his voice. I passed him quickly, so that I didn't have to hear him. "Our Beloved Prince is a busy man. But gossip says she killed him..."

Ariadne came to a stop, so I followed, sitting down next to her. A small stage stood ahead, several lights illuminating the white carpet that led to it. A simple iron fence held the reporters back, pictures snapping every millisecond. 

"Hats ready!"

Everyone within earshot stopped, placing their hands at their head.

"Downwards!"

There was a loud swish noise, as hundreds of hats swept downwards. I struggled to keep up, but thankfully, no one noticed.

The microphone screeched as an old man dressed in black robes came to the stage. I fidgeted, massaging my shoulder.

"Your majesty, your highnesses, your graces, my ladies and lords, and ma'ams and sires- welcome. I give my most sorry condolences to the death of our Late Queen Emily, who was brutally assassinated by those who did not wish the best for our nation."

There were murmurs of assent among the crowd of reporters and citizens. My siblings were quiet, and the nobles who sat behind us shifted uncomfortably.

"She was kind and fair, the most righteous queen. Our economy and influence have grown exponentially since her reign, breaking multiple records that haven't been so much as halved in three hundred years. We owe our wealth and luxury to Queen Emily, her greatness!"

"Queen Emily, her greatness!" chanted the crowd.

"Bless Queen Emily!"

"Rest in peace!"

"Rest in peace, your greatness. May your soul find luxury in the afterlife."

The man bowed his head, and everyone followed, staring at their feet. A moment of silence.

After a minute, he raised his head back, and everyone followed once more.

"If any nobles wish to speak, they may."

To my surprise, an older man around the age of my father stepped up to the stage. He adjusted the microphone, sighing.

"After my dear Dora married that scum commoner, they brought me to debt. I could not provide for my children without her wealth, so woe to me!" The man glared at Ryena, who sat beside Adonis. "Luckily, the good queen allowed me to give my daughter to her, so that she may be her youngest children's royal servant. It was very generous of her since my daughter was so incompetent, but the riches she provided me in exchange for such a useless child were immense. I still do not live in luxury, but the pay keeps my family afloat. Praise Queen Emily!"

"Praise our late queen!" A chorus of chants arose. "Praise Queen Emily!"

He strutted off the stage. In the corner of my eye, I could see Ryena clench her fists.

Duchess Daniella rushed onto the stage. She wore the fanciest gown I had ever seen, full of vibrant white lace and beautiful white silk that glistened with the sun... almost like a wedding gown. Murmurs rose among the crowd.

"Oh, Queen Emily! She was very kind to me! She even offered my dear, darling Prince Ivan's hand in marriage, but of course, I declined; I couldn't marry such a man if he were not to be king! I am now betrothed to the Crown Prince of Southland! Please come to our engagement party on Tuesday, only if you have a title above a Lord, of course. I know it's a great grievance that I will have to leave Eastland, but fear not- I am planning to petition Queen Helen to give the Eastlandian crown to me so that Eastland and Southland shall be united with our marriage! Remember, the party's at my palace on Tuesday! There'll be delicacies from all the four kingd-"

The old man snatched back the microphone from Daniella, who protested, grabbing the microphone back with great violence, kicking the man with her heels. The man yelped and fell.

"Ugh. Commoners. Anyway, we'll be hosting the greatest musicians of all-"

The man took the microphone back and demanded that the Duchess left, as guards grabbed her and led her off the stage. Several commoners snickered as she kicked and screamed, yelling something along the lines of: "I wasn't finished! I'm the duchess. You can't grab me!"

The announcer-funeral-person sighed, still recovering from the kick that Daniella had given him. "Anyone else?"

The other nobles shook their head, probably daunted by the spectacle that Daniella had caused.

The man nodded. "Your highnesses... may you grace us with your words?"

Ariadne rushed up to the stage with shocking speed. She wore a short black dress, so she barely needed to hold it up to walk up the stairs. It was strikingly modest, with simple sleeves that stopped just above the elbow and a black sash around her waist that was tied up in a pretty little bow. Her skirt was relatively simple, too. It reached down just below the knees, with no fancy lace or design, just black. She had pulled her hair into a neat ponytail that leaned to her left side, a single red spider lily woven into her golden curls. Perfect.

"Hello!" Her lips trembled as the man handed her the microphone. "I- I loved my mother. She was really busy, but she always cared for me and Ivan. She made sure we were safe and had a wonderful upbringing. I- I still remember..." Ariadne sniffed, wiping her dainty nose. "That day when Ivan almost died after his horse ran off a cliff, Mom was so quick to bring him to his room. She treated his wounds herself! She was so dedicated to being independent of servants... I remember that she always spent hours at a time learning medicine and gardening and... everything a usual noble would not bother to learn. 

"When she died... I was devastated. Who would want her dead? She was not a tyrant. She gave us good fortune, and now Helen is the queen. Why would anyone want that... but Helen herself? I'm not making any accusations, and maybe I'm speaking from my grief... But still... everyone loved her. I can't imagine... Who would do such a thing..."

Ariadne broke down, tears running down her face. Servants rushed to bring her napkins, and she wiped the tears away only for more to come. "I wish... I could see her again and tell her I love her..."

The servants shushed her, escorting her from the stage. I could hear Cecilia scoffing beside me.

"Are you going to say anything?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow.

Cecilia shrugged. "No one would care what Adonis or I have to say. They only care about Ivan and Ari."

I flushed in embarrassment. "Right!"

She gave me a weird look before Ariadne dropped into the seat between us, blocking my view. Ariadne was inconsolable, sobbing uncontrollably. I hesitantly patted her back.

"It's okay..."

She let out a large wail, and I exchanged glances with Cecilia, who rolled her eyes, leaning back against the bench.

I pursed my lips. She had literally just suspected me of murder in front of the entire kingdom, albeit politely, but I still wanted to help her. I gave her a warm smile.

"I'm sorry. It must be really hard for you."

She clenched her fists. "You-" she reddened, glaring up at me, but she said nothing else.

"I never knew mom that well. But she sounds like a really good person."

"S-she was," Ariadne said. She laid her head on her lap and sobbed. "She was the best."

"I don't doubt that. You must inherit her kindness and beauty, Ari- uh, Ariadne. Do you want me to call you Ari, or...?"

"Just Ari is fine." She sniffed again, wiping the fountain of tears that spilled from her eyes.

"Yeah. Ari. You're really nice and... I can see her in you. She lives in you now."

The anger in her had died down, replaced with cautious melancholy. "R-really?"

"Really." I took her hand and clasped it. She stirred, looking up at me and then at my hand, then back at me. A wide smile appeared on her face.

"T-thanks. You look a lot like mom too, you know."

"I do?"

"Y-yeah." Tears glistened in my sister's eyes, but I could see that she was grateful that I had spoken to her.

I didn't know what to say. "I hope my presence doesn't remind you of her."

"It does. But not in a bad way." She laughed. "You know, you're not as bad as I thought."

There it was again. She had struck me speechless. "Thank... you?"

She opened her mouth to say something but stopped herself. Another moment passed before she spoke again, bowing her head in respect."It's a pleasure to compliment my Queen." Ariadne's voice had gone back to her usual sickly sweetness. I could see her eyes dart nervously to the surrounding cameras. She wiped her eyes.

I blinked. "Okay."

It was probably the twentieth time I felt like an idiot today.

She flashed me a winning smile, then turned back to the stage.

The old man had come to me now, bowing to the floor, which was weird. "Queen Helen. May you grace us with your words, as Queen Emily's successor?"

I stood up obediently. "Of course, sir."

It felt like the universe was watching. They trained each camera on my footsteps as I swept up my terrible, itchy dress and sauntered up the staircase to the stage.

Click-click. Click Clack. Click click click.

I took a deep breath, trying to block out the sounds of each camera clicking and clicking and clicking and-

"Your majesty." The man bowed, handing me the microphone.

Click click click.

I closed my eyes. It seemed to make the sounds louder.

Click click-clack.

Stop. Please. Stop. 

Click.

I just want to speak.

Click click click. Clack click.

No... Please, I-

"H-hi-" I blurted out. My voice echoed across all the televisions and speakers all across Eastland.

Click clack click.

I froze. There were so many people.

All watching me.

Thousands upon thousands, millions upon millions of eyes trained on me.

And I was just standing there, staring blankly into the sea of people that awaited my speech.

Click.

"I fear that Queen Helen must have lost her voice!"

Please. Stop it.

Clack click.

Stop clicking.

Click.

Click.

click.

c-l-i-c-k

c-

l-

i-

-ck.

"STOP IT!"

Click.

"STOP IT RIGHT NOW! THIS IS AN ORDER FROM YOUR QUEEN!"

In an instant, everyone quieted, the clicks coming to a halt, all eyes turning to me and me alone.

"It's annoying! I'm trying to talk here, and all I can hear is the whiny 'click' of a hundred cameras!" I said. My hands gripped the microphone so hard I could see bones beneath my skin.

"Well, in case you didn't know, we're allowed to take photos. Mind your own business!" A reporter complained.

"Yeah! We're just trying to record history! Just give your speech already!"

"This is taking too long!"

"Yeah, who does she think she is?"

I flinched, bowing my head in embarrassment as the crowd began shaking their heads, some shooting snide remarks and others whispering to their friends.

I could see a black-haired woman — Ryena — running up to me.

"Helen, you need to take charge!"

"W-what?"

"Here," she took the microphone from me and said, "STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"

Everyone quieted once more, looking up at Ryena.

"QUEEN HELEN WISHES FOR YOU TO STOP, SO YOU WILL FOLLOW HER ORDERS! SHE HAS THE ULTIMATE AUTHORITY AND YOU ARE IN NO POSITION TO CHALLENGE HER!" Ryena yelled. "IF YOU CONTINUE TO SHOW OUR QUEEN SUCH DISRESPECT, SHE WILL NOT HESITATE TO PUNISH YOU."

It was admirable how she could so easily command so many people, draw them all in with her voice and make them listen.

I wish I had that power.

"Yes, my lady!" The reporter named Dan cried out.

"Yes, my lady!"

"We'll respect you from now on!"

"Of course, my lady!"

Ryena handed the microphone back to me, and I smiled.

I would have to thank her later.

"You have the power, Helen," Ryena told me. "You need to understand that and not let them get to you."

"Right."

She hurried away, her silk green dress billowing behind her.

I could do this.

"Hi. Sorry about that!" I gave them what I hoped was an apologetic smile. The reporters had stopped clicking, most of the cameras pointed at the floor and the only cameras on were the ones recording video. "My mother was one of the fairest rulers Eastland ever had. She should have sentenced me to death or at least life in prison, but she allowed me to stay in the line of succession until her death, where I would become queen. For this, I am grateful."

"She just wants to become queen!"

"Of course, her mother was just a tool for her so she can destroy Eastland!"

I was cowering away before I saw Ryena in the corner of my eye. She was egging me on, pointing at the murmuring crowd.

I took a deep breath and nodded, walking over to the man who had accused me of using my mother as a tool.

His eyes widened when he saw me come to him, and he quickly bowed.

"M-my queen!"

"Get up."

He stood, his eyes trained on the floor.

I looked back at Ryena, who smiled.

"Looks like someone can't listen!"

He was silent, his fist clenched, still staring at the floor.

"Would you like a punishment for your disrespect?"

He stayed silent.

"Answer to your queen!"

He looked straight at me. Then he opened his mouth and suddenly, hot saliva slipped down my cheek. I stood there, shocked, as he guffawed.

"HA! Take that, you-"

I quickly wiped his spit off of my face and grabbed him by his shirt. I stared him down.

"I dare you to do that again."

His mouth contorted as he readied another blow, but I swiftly turned my head as his saliva flew into the air.

"I see. You need to learn some discipline, young man."

"I'm older and wiser than you, murderer. I'll put you in your place!"

"Guards!"

Two guards rushed to my side, standing straight.

"Yes, your majesty!"

"Take him away. We'll see how he likes three weeks in prison."

"Yes, my lady!"

They grabbed him, and his eyes grew wide, registering his punishment.

"W-what?! You can't do that!"

I scoffed. "Really? I can't?"

"I have the right to a fair trial! It's in the law!"

"Well," I said. "I am the queen, and I am above the law. I have the final say in anything, and I sentence you to three weeks in prison... What's your name, my dear friend?"

"The-one-who-will-end-your-reign-of-tyranny," he grumbled. I would've burst into laughter at his stupid joke if I weren't the one threatening him.

"Your real name."

He sighed in defeat. "Brian Wheeler."

"Well, Brian, I'll be placing you in exactly the same cell they held me in my entire life."

"Your majesty, it is already occupied by-"

"Then I pardon whoever is occupying my cell, so we can make room for this fool."

"Yes, your majesty!" The guards started dragging Brain away. He kicked and screamed.

"Curse you, Helen! Curse you! You are a tyrant, you will bring Eastland to ruin, I know it! Everyone, attack her!"

I rolled my eyes. "If anyone dares to, I'll make sure they'll pay the price, too."

The crowd was still, no one daring to make a single move. It was so silent that I could hear the breathing of the people next to me, loud and clear.

I rushed over to Ryena, a wide smile on my face.

"So?"

She smirked. "You are becoming the ruler you should be, Helen."

"Thanks. I-it feels good."

"It should be." She said, leaning back against her chair. Cecilia gave us a weird look. "I bet you'll live up to your mother in no time."

"You really think so?" I practically had stars in my eyes.

She nodded. "You are your mother's daughter."

Hope blossomed in my chest as I turned back to the stage, watching as another person took the mic.

Maybe this wasn't as hopeless as I thought.

Maybe I really could be a good Queen.

Maybe... Somehow, somewhere, I would finally be accepted.

And suddenly life seemed so much brighter.