Just another day being Queen.

Belinda clumsily gropes for her glasses, finding them on her third attempt.

She sits up in bed and puts them on, yawning. She's wearing an elegant nightie made out of the finest spidersilk. The cloth just feels so good on her body she rarely wears anything else to bed.

Now that she's awake, she calls out to the head Maid, Greta, insisting that breakfast be delivered to her in her massive king-sized bed. The sheets are made of the same material as her nightgown. She was told it had cost a fortune, but she was queen and that meant she was entitled to the best.

"Greta," said the queen as she finished off her steak, eggs, and exotic fruit salad, wiping her face with a cloth napkin that cost more to buy than a peasant made in a typical year. "Inform the prime minister that I wish to meet with him today to discuss the portrait situation."

Belinda had noticed some of the portraits in the royal gallery had been moved around during her last visit. The Prime Minister had informed her they were being dusted and would soon be returned, but she wanted a more definite answer of when. She simply loved the way her husband looked in his, and if he wasn't hear to greet her and cuddle her each morning, she could at least gaze upon his picture.

"Yes my Queen," said Greta. She was a beautiful woman roughly the same age as the queen (about a week older actually). She had served as Belinda's personal servant ever since the two were children. Her hair was a duller blonde than Belinda's and her skin a little ruddier from years of toil, but she still had an air of elegance and nobility around her. That was because, unbeknownst to Belinda, Greta was actually her half-sister, the embarrassing result of a scandalous affair between Belinda's father King Cornelius, and a scullery maid.

Greta was of course keenly aware of the secret, and while she didn't really hate Belinda, she was incredibly jealous of her and the luxurious life she had lived.

"Will that be all my queen?"

"Oh, and tell the royal chef not to cook the steak so long tomorrow, it seemed a little tough," said the queen, not realizing the chef had kept her steak for himself this morning and instead given her a lesser cut normally reserved for the lower classes.

"Very well my queen. Shall I begin laying out today's outfit?" Asked Greta.