Don't keep them waiting! Get to court.

You certainly don't want to be late for your first day of court, because you were dilly dallying about. After giving yourself one last look over in the mirror, you get up and quickly head down the hall towards The Throne Room.

Unfortunately, you move a bit too quickly and on your way down some stairs you crash into a servant carrying bedsheets up to the bedrooms. The sudden collision causes him to drop the bedsheets and grab onto your shoulders so that both of you don't go tumbling down the stairs together.

"Hey! Watch where you're goi...." his eyes land on you and he gasps, "Your Majesty! I'm so sorry!"

He quickly lets go of you and causes you to almost tumble backwards. Fortunately, you manage to catch yourself. "It's fine. "

He stammers "b-but..."

"Really. It was my fault. I'm a bit clumsy sometimes." You scowl at yourself at the chain of terrible clumsiness on your part today. Your eyes look over the servant before widening with surprise. His raven black hair and brown eyes look strikingly familiar to you. "You're Iria's brother, aren't you?"

Iria is your personal servant who cleans your room, clothes, and provides other necessary tasks for you. Your father's servant took care of you for awhile, but she eventually settled down to start her own family a few years before you came of age. Iria was her replacement.

"Yes, my name's Wallace, Your Majesty." His eyes drift down to his feet. Although you suspect that it was simply a veiled attempt to catch a good look at your more feminine parts.

"well, tell her that I hope to see her again soon. Things have been sort of chaotic over the last few weeks. I haven't had a chance to talk with her." You help Wallace pick up the bedsheets off the floor.

He looks thankful. "I'll do that, Your Majesty. Thank you for the help."

"It was my fault...See you around" You wave him off and continue your trek to the Throne Room.

Finally arriving at the Throne Room, you enter with some mild fanfare. You step in and walk to the throne being very careful not to trip and stumble and sit on your throne and assess the room. Looking around you see maybe twenty people along with your personal advisers. A frown crosses your lips. You see none of your prominent vassals. All of them are off dealing with their own personal issues. Only a few Mayors and Barons have attended. This isn't the large court that you heard from your mother that greeted your late father.

A lot of people had died in the war following King Bryce's ****. A large amount of land changed hands.Prominent Nobles fought other Nobles and killed each other's kin. Grudge have run deep and for the last nearly two decades there hasn't been a true King or Queen. The powers within Itheria have worked to carve out their own little peace in the the carnage that followed. Even after the ceasefire was called, skirmishes occasionally break out between your various vassal-lords. There is a lot to do.

You look over your advisers, making sure that you know their names so that you don't wrongfully call on them. Your mother, Baroness Victoria has assumed the traditional role of former regents and has taken over as Steward succeeding the Late Lord Gilbert. Your grandfather Count Erwin passed away just last year leaving his son, Count Neron to rule his land. Of course, like all of your major vassal-lords. Count Neron has left his seat on the council to more closely manage his land and given the position of Chancellor to his son and Heir Lord Richard. Similarly Sir Garret has left his son and former squire Sir Peter in charge of his position of Marshal and Royal Defender and he has retired from active service. Of course, the seemingly everpresent Lady Vessa still stands as court mage. She looks as young as ever. Not much older than you, it seems. Although the odd crease on her face or fleck of grey in her hair would attest that even she isn't immune to the passage of time.

Your mother steps into the room and breaks the words and names and titles running through your head. You become acutely aware that everybody is staring at you and waiting for you to make some inspiring speech for your first day at court. A bead of sweat runs down your neck. Honestly, you can't really think of much of anything you could say. Speaking was never your strong suit. Fearing the silence becoming awkward, you speak up. "Well...We have a lot to do. We should begin soon before the day passes too far along."

It was a terrible opening. You knew it. However, it did seem to calm the people in the court. It may not have been flashy or fancy or an inspiring speech, but it broke the silence and put on an air of normality. You look over to see your mother giving you a reassuring smile as Lord Richard begins reading out the day's duties that need attended.