Hey, I know it's been a while, I've been working on a novel I hope to publish sometime in the next year. This, however, is not a shameless self promotion, but rather a character backstory I wrote- I don't know, seven years ago? It was for a sandbox game loosely set in 7th Sea (1ed). There are a lot of chapters, but the story is written predominantly in diary format, (when it switches out of memoir format around chapter 10) so things don't necessarily continue in a concise manner and not everything gets explained. All of the chapters have already been written, so I'll have each one out as soon as I can get it edited grammatically.
I'm sharing this now because of its catharsis factor. Stay safe out there, and tell your loved ones you love them.
Septimus 1658
Long before my brothers and I were born, my father ruled over Inismore. His reign started in bloodshed, a slaughter over the death of his father. He was the King of Inismore for fifteen years before he decided that he needed to, "Go for a walk". He was gone for so long that his country fell to civil war. A hundred years later, he returned. He killed the man sitting on his throne. That time he only ruled for seven years. The son of the man Mad Jack had killed refused the throne. He didn't want to die. He was murdered by a jealous noble in the following civil war.
So it was to no one's surprise that when my father returned to his throne most recently, running out the Avalonian soldiers and Montaignian spies alike, that the Inish nobility sharpened their claws. Then Queen Elaine took the throne in Carleon, and my father called an immediate ceasefire. He traveled to her Court and swore his allegiance to her and her idea of a United Avalon.
My queen is no fool. When she accepted his fealty, she asked him to sire heirs so Inismore would not be lost to another war if my father decided he needed to stretch his legs a third time. People have told me that he presented her with an extremely confused look and gestured behind him. Then he turned and, seeing no one there, touched his forehead with a small laugh. He held up two fingers to the Queen and walked out of the room.
He returned half a year later with our mother, Lady Siobhan, who had gone missing for almost fifteen years before. She was preceded by a boy of twelve who strode confidently despite his youth. She also directed before her, with a firm grip on each of his shoulders, a lad of seven years. Two of the goodfolk, a male and female, followed in behind them. Elaine stood to receive them and congratulated my father on his two heirs. He looked confused again and began counting on his fingers. My mother tightened her grip on the boy before her and looked around somewhat frantically.
She saw me too late. I'd already taken a hold of the Queen's skirt and began to softly tug. Elaine whirled to face me. I have a vague memory of her look of concern and how it melted into a smile. I remember her fingers on my cheek as she brushed some of my hair out of my eyes, and her coo of "sweet, clever girl". She then sent me to stand with my family, and Conall put his arms around me so mother wouldn't have to release Neal. My Queen, so full of grace and beauty, blessed us then, and welcomed us as the royal family of Inismore.
Gage, my own among the Goodfolk, smiles when I ask him how, at five, I managed to approach the queen from behind without her or, more importantly, her guards notice. He only reports that I, "wanted to touch the pretty lady," and he is certain that I made quite an impression.