In the kingdom of Aydrol there are roughly seventy four thousand citizens. Approximately six thousand live in the capital, Darxim, and out of these six thousand approximately five hundred are of high social standings.
Out of these five hundred, one hundred and six are royalty.
Now bear with me here, this is where things start getting interesting.
Out of this one hundred and six, two are currently in line to the throne at the same time. Which probably has you thinking, ah, so these cousins are fighting for the throne! Well, you’re wrong.
Because the king, old and frail and very, very sickly, had two children.
So just stick the oldest on the throne, you may cry out at us but simply isn’t that simple. You see, being older by less than a minute doesn’t really count.
That’s right, twins. The king had twins.
I am one half of those twins, Princess Nykyl Tulas Zisyr Becysa, and I know what you’re thinking and yes, I do have an abnormally short name but then, my sisters lengthy name far makes up for the shortcomings of my own.
You see my father named me, and he thinks little of traditions like giving those in line for the throne long names to show their standing. With a name as short as mine, many royals visiting from other lands think me a simple duchess, not heir to the throne.
My father is also the current cause of conflict in the kingdom right now, because of his lack of interest in our traditions. Myself and my sister are not the first set of twins to be born into the royal family, there have been four sets of twins including us in the history of our kingdom.
Three out of four ended up at war with each other, and I’m starting to suspect we may end up the same way if he doesn’t chose a successor before he passes away into the Light. Or the Darkness, who knows how They judge the dead.
Today father will announce what he plans to do, whether or not his advisers have been successful in convincing him to just choose or if he’s come up with something else is yet to be seen.
Mind you, if he does pick my dearly beloved sister, there may just be a war anyway.
A squawk at my window jerked me from my musings and I cursed, slamming down my quill and darting over to smack the glossy red pain and startle that bloody bird away as I did most mornings.
The bird just squawked again and I opened the latch to let the damn thing in, otherwise he’d wake the entire castle.
“You are a very annoying creature did you know that?” I asked, nudging him with my foot. He just pecked at my toes until I walked back across my room to my table. I packed away my writing implements and dress.He just squawked at me, albeit a little quieter this time and I rolled my eyes.
The bird, a species that I couldn’t for the life of my identify, was called Myro. He’s a rather big bird, he reaches my knees and has thick red plumage that he likes to fluff up when I’ve offended him... or when someone has offended me. He’s quite loyal.
“Myro, you can’t keep making that noise. Father doesn’t like you as it is-” more squawking “-he only tolerates you because you were a gift from mother.”
Myro just bobbed his head arrogantly, twisting around so I could see his rear and fluffing up his back feathers so I could appreciate his rump.
“Keep that up and I’ll serve your backside up with a platter of my favourite apples.” I informed him as I hid my book up on the top shelf of my bookcase, where nobody would look.
He pecked my arm as I was reaching up on my tiptoes to keep it out of sight, and I flapped him away angrily. I took a look at the red mark on my arm and growled low in my throat.
“I will turn you into a pillow.”
He clucked, laughing at me in that special annoying way of his but I ignored him and settled for getting dressed. It wouldn’t do to attend court wearing my nightclothes.
“Myro, when a princess finds out she is about to become queen, should she look beautiful or terrifying?” I asked, peering down at him as I meandered slowly to my wardrobe to admire my clothes.
Myro clucked up at me and I grinned slyly back down at him.
“You’re right, I can be both.”