How did you wind up the bearer of this heavy crown?
A Recent Tragedy
And of course that crown was too heavy for you. The woman in that reflection, although beautiful, was scarcely more then a girl. The inexperience and "innocence" was written on your face.
You were never supposed to become Queen. Your father was still young and your elder brother was in line for the throne. Instead, your days were spent engaged in flower picking, reading, and a frankly scandalous amount of self-pleasure. Princes and highborn men came to woo you, but you rarely followed their jabber about world affairs and usually found them wetfishes. Not the sort of men who could pleasure you.
Your days of frivolous girlhood and secret depravity came to an end upon your ascension as Queen, when you were merely twenty. You didn't much mourn your brother, an estranged lad who you hardly knew, or your parents, stern folk who frequently punished your attempted indiscretions. However, you did mourn the loss of your carefree life.
Your advisors had thought that you'd grow into your crown. That being forced to be responsible would nature you. And to the outside world that probably seemed true. However, it also disguised the fact that there was now no one who could stop you from fully indulging in your greatest fantasies.
You put down the crown. There wasn't much time to dawdle. After all, today's schedule was designed to allow your greatest indulgence yet.
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