The Queen's Demise.

Entry for the Fantasy competiton.

Helana, Daughter of Garon, is Queen of the LowLands; a small queendom with the power of a kingdom. The trouble is, she's challenged by kings from other lands who threaten her throne, although they are always unsuccessful... Until Serah, King of the SeaLands, comes along.
Will Helana managed to keep her queendom in her grasp?

NOTE: About the terrible formatting... I hope it doesn't affect my chances in the fantasy competition... But read the below..


3. The Queen's Mind.

Queen Helana stood in her chambers, surrounded by several gowns, unsure of which one to wear. She glanced at each one in turn, taking in the hideous colours and long sleeves, wishing she could wear her battle clothes the entire time. Sadly, her advisor, Piskie, had plainly stated that it was not 'regal' for a monarch like her to wear trousers and a shirt, so she was forced into wearing gown after gown after gown. She did like one, however; it was as green as the leaves of the pine tree outside of her window, and made of a plain linen that was similar to the fabric of her battle clothes. They made her feel much more comfortable when wandering around, sitting side-saddle in a horse whilst waving at the peasants she couldn't care less about at times. 

The peasants in the courtyard wandered around with a purpose, and she envied them for it. She longed to have a purpose, to be able to hang up her gown and walk around like an ordinary person, or to ride around on Hella or to go hunting. But she had people to do that, people to do absolutely everything for her. And she loathed it. How could she be a strong Queen, like her mother, when she wasn't allowed to do anything for herself? She pulled on a deep red gown in disgust, combing her black hair and leaving it to glide down to her mid-back, before moving back to the window. 

She looked up at the dimming sky, and at the two stars that had just appeared amidst the orange and pink. Helana smiled slightly, remembering her mother and father as if they were there only yesterday. Her mother's intricate hairstyles, her father's deep but smooth voice... Helana had never understood why the memories had never bought tears to her eyes, but she put it down to just being much stronger than an ordinary person. She kissed her index and middle fingers of her left hand and raised slowly above her head, grazing them slightly against the top of the stone window frame. 

'I miss you,' she murmured, before walking to the door. As she pushed, someone on the other side opened it, and Helana made the slightest noise of disgust before going to have her dinner. 

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