If this story sounds familiar then your instincts are correct. I posted a version of this story years ago, it was very well received until I ruined the ending. I thought I was done with it, but it just felt unresolved. Therefore... I am revising and re-publishing in hopes of redeeming my younger self. It will be slightly different, but hopefully with a better, more well-rounded story. Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 1 - The Queen of Nothing
In a great hall, greater than any other in the five realms, the fate of one is decided. Voices bounced from one towering pillar to the next, searching for a way to escape the great emptiness before them. Proud and tall, each pillar stretched for a darkness in the arched ceilings above them, its blackness reaching down to snatch them up as if the gods themselves devoured their intricate carvings. A thousand steps would scarcely cover the breadth of the hall. Few would even dare to measure, yet many desired the opportunity. They desired a reason to be in its presence. It was a place of grandeur, yet within it, now, lingered a sorrow, heavy as the stones that created it.
At its heart, near the flickering flames of a grand hearth longer than the arms of a giant, there sat a queen. Her form draped in the finest woven silk, as deep red as the blood moon, though her shoulders sagged beneath an invisible burden she bore. The throne at her side–her king's–sat empty, its vacancy a testament to her sudden uncertain future. Men huddled below her, their white robes dancing between their forms as they swayed to and fro in serious conversation, whispers that conspired against her, words sent spiraling into the pillared chamber in solemn waves, twisting as though they sought to flee.
Tables for feasting lay before her, barren now, like the hope in her heart, for no merriment had graced this hall in many years. The fire burned, but its warmth did not reach her, for what flame could stir the heart of one imprisoned not by chains, but by a bond duty. A bond duty to the dead, a duty that made her queen of nothing. Despair had built in her spirit, and as the hall echoed their deliberations about her future, she wished to flee, like a wisp of smoke seeking freedom beyond the high, indifferent walls of the castle she felt prisoner in.
Regina's crown was heavier now. Its golden edges felt sharp and demanding, as if calling out for strength.
"The king is dead, and there is no heir." One man said, his voice grim. Regina could feel their cutting eyes slice into her skin, as if she were to blame for this predicament the kingdom now found themselves in.
"Nor any rightful successor," another countered. "Not unless you count the rumors spun by tavern fires and idle tongues."
"A brother," one murmured, his tone skeptical, "if he ever existed."
Regina's breath stilled. The mention of a brother—whispers that had haunted her court for weeks following the king's death. King Leopold made no mention of his family to Regina. She could neither confirm nor deny anyone's suspicions. Yet, no one had proof, only vague tales of a man who might have lived beyond the reach of the kingdom. But she knew well enough that the truth mattered little to these men. What mattered was that she, a woman, could not reign alone. Not without the bond of marriage to tie her authority to another. The law was old, as old as the stones of this castle, brittle with age, yet unyielding as the iron gates that protected the castle.
"The kingdom cannot afford to spend its resources chasing ghosts," another man, older and grizzled, growled. "We have not the time or the spare men to send on wild hunts while war looms just over the mountains. The enemy draws closer with each passing day, and we argue over whispers of a brother that may have never existed."
A silence followed, heavy with tension. The flickering light of the hearth danced across their faces, casting long shadows that stretched across the cold stone floor, as though the room itself recoiled from their indecision.
"What then?" came a voice from the edge of the gathering, sharp and clipped. "Shall we crown a woman and see the kingdom torn apart by rebellion and dissent? She cannot rule. It is not her right, not without a king by her side, the law forbids it."
The words stung, though Regina did not flinch. She had known it would be said. It had been said across the kingdom since the day the king died. She had known the moment her husband took his last breath that her power would be stripped away.
"And yet there is no king." another man said, his voice soft but measured. "Nor any suiter to wed. If we have no leadership then the kingdom will surely crumble. Damn the law, make her queen in her own right."
An irritated buzz filled their voices. Shouts of dissent, shouts of approval mixed with the murmurs of those considering their options. Regina felt her chest tighten. They spoke as though she were not present, as though her life, her future, were nothing more than another problem to be solved, like trade routes or grain storages. She was still queen, yet in this hall now, she was no more than a pawn.
"War will come," another interrupted, a snarl in his voice. "Are we willing to face it with no leader to rally our forces? The people will not follow a queen. They never have, and they never will."
"They won't, or you won't?" An angry voice shouted back, a physical reaction came over the group as a few collided in the center of the room.
"Then what would you have us do?" someone finally shouted, calming the group. "Chase rumors of a brother? Or force her into a marriage with a noble? Perhaps one of us?"
The men glanced around at one another, and the suggestion hung in the air like a heavy smoke.
A soft sound broke through the murmurs, so faint at first that the men scarcely noticed it. Regina, still as she had been for so long, was laughing. It was a quiet laugh, barely more than a breath. But as the men slowly began to stop speaking and the room fell quiet the laughter grew. The men eyed her, circled around her like wolves around a wounded stag. A chuckle, then a low, bitter sound that echoed off the towering stone. Their eyes were wide with confusion.
"Your majesty…?" one of the men ventured, his voice uncertain.
Regina's laughter softened, and she shook her head, her gaze finally lifting to meet theirs. Her eyes glittered, but not with tears. No, there was something harder, sharper in her gaze now. A darkness fell across the room, and the men could feel a cold air draft around their feet. They faltered back as Regina rose from her throne, her bare feet curling beneath her as she descended the few stairs to the main floor.
"You think one of you fools could be king?" she began, her voice tinged with annoyance. The men shifted and murmured uncomfortably. "I am not a child, though you speak of me as if I am a piece of meat to be married off to the next imbecile who thinks they can do what I do. As though I were nothing more than a vessel for the king to do with as he pleased. A thing to be managed, to be dealt with." Her words slid from her tongue as if they tasted like bitter meat.
She reached out to lay a hand on a man's cheek and he flinched. She did not recoil from his sudden movement. Her cool, smooth fingers caressed his rough cheeks, the remnants of a two day old beard scratching at her skin. "You are afraid of me." She smiled at him before turning her attention away from him calmly. "You are all afraid. Afraid that a woman could rule. Afraid what that would mean for your sons, daughters, and wives. Afraid of what might be taken away from you. Your power, your arrogance, your pride, your disregard for this kingdom is what has set this whole cycle into motion. Who started this war? The ogres? The men. You. And who has been fighting to keep this kingdom afloat for these last agonizingly long years?"
She let the light fall from the room, she let the darkness settle around them, she let life drain from their eyes and fill hers with passion and authority. Her knuckles clenched white, her voice rising in fury.
"Naive." she spat, her gaze burning as it swept across the council. "Naive to think that King Leopold ruled this kingdom while he rotted away on his deathbed. For years, I have ruled, I have held together what was left of this kingdom while he wasted away. You sit there and pretend otherwise, blind to what has been before your very eyes."
The men shifted uneasily, some of them muttering amongst themselves. One of them, bolder than the others, took a step forward, his face twisted in a sneer. "If you claim to have been ruling, then perhaps we should blame you for the war that now stands on a doorstep."
The air in the hall seemed to freeze. Regina's eyes darkened, her anger palpable, the weight of it pressing down on the room like a storm about to break. Her voice was sharp as steel.
"Blame me?" she hissed, the words slicing the air between them. "Blame me, if it makes you feel righteous, but do not insult me with your ignorance. You think this war began yesterday? Do you truly believe it was my hand that summoned it? This war has been raging since before you took your first breaths out of your mother's wombs, and it will rage until you breathe your last. Time and again, it was ignored, just as my father ignored it, and his father before him."
Her words echoed, cold and bitter, and the men flinched as if struck by them.
"You," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "You sat in this very hall, too busy paying off whores to keep your bastards quiet, too distracted by your own indulgences to notice the kingdom crumbling around you. The war was at our gate long before I wore this crown, but none of you paid heed. And now? Now you have the gall to place this disaster at my feet?"
The room sat in stunned silence, the council visibly shaken by the fury in her words. But Regina was not finished. Her lips curled into a bitter smile as she sat back on her throne and looked down upon them, her eyes blazing.
"Like ants you scramble for a solution. Now you would have one of you volunteer to marry me? How noble of a sacrifice." She threw her head back in a cackle. "To sit beside me and wear a crown that none of you deserve?" Her laugh was harsh and mirthless. "One of you, the very men who have helped destroy this kingdom, now thinks himself fit to be king? Where were you when King Leopold was ill? Where were you? Do you think another man will save what men have already torn apart? What would another king do, except lead us into further ruin."
Now, before them, she was not merely the widow, she was the queen, and her fury was undeniable.
"I will no longer be ruled by men," she said, her voice cold as ice. "Nor will I subject this kingdom to it either. If you think another king will be our salvation, then you are as blind as ever. This kingdom is on the brink of ruin, not because of me—because of men like you, who have let it rot from within while pretending to rule."
Regina leaned forward. "I will not be your puppet. The law can be damned to hell with the rest of you. Now, get out of my sight."
As the heavy oak doors of the hall swung shut, the last of the councilmen shuffled away, their pride wounded, yet anger simmering beneath the surface. Regina knew she had made enemies today, men who would not forget the humiliation she had dealt them. But her contempt was of no consequence to her now. She would deal with it later—she had always known there would be costs to her defiance.
The clank of armor broke the silence as a knight approached, his gleaming chest plate catching the light from the hearth. Her family's crest–a lion rampant–was engraved upon it, a mark of loyalty , though in this moment, she found it hard to care. Regina sighed, rubbing her temples as the knight strode closer, his familiar presence both a comfort and a reminder of the weight that bore down on her.
"Graham," she said without looking up, her voice laced with irritation. "Whatever you have to say can wait. You don't have to tell me that I've angered half the kingdom."
He chuckled softly, his tone warm, more like a friend than a subordinate. "You've done more than that, your majesty. I reckon you've scared the other half as well." His eyes softened as he stopped before her, his helmet tucked under his arm, revealing the chiseled dark jawline of his scarred face. "But more to the point, you can't speak to the council like that. You keep pushing them, you'll lose more than their respect—you'll lose your head."
Regina let out a bitter laugh. "Good. At least then I'll be free of this."
Graham shook his head, taking a step closer, his voice dropping into a more serious tone. "You know that's not what I mean, Regina. You've got to be smarter. They're angry now, but they still have the influence to remove you if you give them enough reason. You think you can stand alone, against the whole world, but you won't last if they turn on you completely."
Regina looked up at him, her frustration evident. "I don't care, Graham. I cannot let them walk over me, not now, not ever. Ii I bow to them, they'll take everything from me."
"I'm not saying you bow," Graham replied, his voice calm but firm. "But there are ways to play this without burning the whole damn castle down with you."
She raised an eyebrow at him, and he sighed, running a gloved hand through his long, slightly oily gray hair. "The rumors about this possible brother of the king—they are false. I've known about it for some time. No long-lost heir is coming to save you. Without the council's support, they'll find a way to have you removed, and not gently. You need to be careful, Regina."
She clenched her fists, the truth of his words sinking in, though she loathed to admit it. "So, great knight, what do you suggest then? What am I to do—marry one of those fools?"
Graham shook his head. "No. You'll need a husband, that much is true, but if you choose wisely enough before the council does, they may accept it. If they pick, they'll hand you off to the highest bidder."
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "But you—you can choose a marriage that benefits the kingdom. Make it an alliance, not just a marriage. There are realms out there with forces and resources we need. Resources they have been reluctant to offer in aid. This war is growing closer to our gates every day, and if you want to survive long past it—if you want the kingdom to survive—you'll need alliances. Ogres are not the only enemy, you know that. Without marriage, without an alliance, there is no path forward."
Regina turned away from him, walking to the balcony that overlooked her darkening kingdom. The mountains loomed in the distance, and beyond them, the glow of war. Her people had suffered for so long, and it was only going to get worse. She clung to her chest, taking a deep breath.
"I'm not ready to marry again. I can do this on my own," she said softly when she felt his presence near her again. Her voice was barely audible.
"You don't have a choice," Graham replied, his tone gentler now. "This isn't about you. It's about the kingdom, and winning this war. Marriage isn't just about someone wearing a crown beside you—it's about someone who can help you save this place."
Regina let out a long breath, her shoulders sagging as the weight of reality settled on her. She knew Graham was right. She had to play the game, even if it meant making sacrifices. Even if it meant a marriage she didn't want. The alternative was too grim to consider.
"So," she said, "I find a husband, one with an army. And then what?"
Graham nodded. "Then they help you win this war. You find one who will respect your rule, not undermine it. That's how you keep power."
She stood in silence for a long moment, her thoughts racing as she considered the path before her. It was not the path she hoped for, but it was the only way forward.
"Then I suppose," Regina said at last, her voice cold but resolute, "We must find a king."