Princess Cassandra

He promptly ran straight into someone, knocking the book they were holding out of their hands and ending up in a tangle of limbs on the floor, with him on the bottom.

Ephraim groaned, opening an eye. Looking up at the bespectacled, glaring face of a raven haired woman, he muttered, "Morning, Cassandra. Sorry about that. Really."

"I should say so," she answered with a huff, shoving herself to her feet. "Now, where did that book go?"

Ephraim sat up, picking the book up from where it had fallen and holding it out to her.

Cassandra scowled at him, yanking the book out of his hands and walking off, her perky, rather distracting rear swaying with each step. "Mother wanted to see you," she grumbled.

"Uh, yes, Abdul already told me," Ephraim started to say, but she had already turned the corner.

He sighed, getting to his feet and brushing off his uniform. Hopefully his mother would be in a better mood.

The rest of his trip to the throne room was unremarkable, other than a few servants tripping over themselves and their work to bow in greeting. He always felt uncomfortable when they did this, but his tutors had taught him better than to show it.

As he entered the throne room, he was silently greeted by two guards.

Not that he cared, he was more concerned with the empty throne beside his mother.

That was odd. His father was getting on in years, but he always made the trip down from his quarters to do his duty.

But instead, his mother sat alone, talking to the Treasurer, a slight, snake looking man in a brown suit that he had met recently, though he could not remember his name.

Standing a little behind the man, Ephraim waited patiently as his mother and he talked.

"... And then there's the gowns, which will cost anywhere around 200 to 450 gold pieces each, depending on how fashionable you and your daughter wish to appear," the Treasurer was saying, adjusting his monocle with that slight grin Ephraim hated.

"And what of the feast?" his mother asked, raising an eyebrow.

Oh, gods, he looked at his mother. Whatever the Treasurer said next was tuned out by Ephraim taking in the sight that was his mother.

Queen Esmeralda of Eros was renowned throughout the known world as the most beautiful woman alive. While Ephraim was uncertain of the truth of this matter, he had to admit that age had almost not touched her.

Where Cassandra was a thin woman of straight lines, Esmeralda was a buxom woman of curves. She had the hourglass build, with wide, child bearing hips and great... Tracks of land that could turn even the most stubborn of men into putty in her hands.

Ephraim himself had inherited her emerald green eyes and long, wavy red hair, but it was Cassandra who had inherited her confidence.

She wore a long, black dress and a veil that she had pulled over her golden circlet, which also struck Ephraim as odd. Who had died? Her parents had died quite some time ago, and though she had mourned them for longer than was fashionable, she had long since put that veil up.

He zoned back into reality as she nodded, waving her hand. "That will be all for now. Make the arrangements as you see fit. Now leave, I wish to talk to my son."

The Treasurer seemed to notice Ephraim then and jumped back a step in shock at his perceived sudden appearance (Ephraim had that effect, though he certainly didn't mean to). He then bowed quickly to the pair of them and chuckled nervously, "Of course, your majesty."

Without another word, the man walked briskly out the door, and the guards followed, closing the door behind themselves.

Esmeralda turned to Ephraim with a small, sad smile as he bowed, standing and holding her arms open. "Come now, dear," she said with a fond chuckle, "Give your mother a hug."