“I hate people.”

The nurses rolled their downcast eyes as they dutifully washed and scrubbed her feet and legs to silky pale smoothness, though they weren’t very dirty to begin with. It was actually considered a luxurious job in the castle because it required comparatively little work and wasn’t necessarily unpleasant but for Titania’s actual presence.

“Fine! It’s fine! Begone!” The nurses stifled their groans as she kicked them away carelessly, paying no mind to the hard work they’d devoted to her. Why should she? She’d grown up with her every beck and call answered, so why would she ever consider that one day she might not be so fortunate?

“Shoes!” she called out to her nurses who she’d just sent away quite rudely. “Bun!” she continued her yapping. Indeed, at least among the castle workers, she was very completely hated. The only reason people weren’t defecting and the kingdom wasn’t crumbling was out of fear for her. They’d thought that a husband would calm her and reign her in a bit, but that was not the case. She became even more fearsome, making it a tradition to break new knights to the point of tears before acknowledging them.

However, despite all of her yelling and her rudeness and her complete disregard for the hard work of others, Titania was intelligent, brilliant even. She’d been educated in all things deemed appropriate since the age of four by the best tutors. Philosophy, art study, music, mathematics, basic science, public speaking, debate and argument, Greek, Latin, and religion were all tools in her box, and this was all besides her natural affinity for analyzing people in order to find their weakness and exploit them. This made her a fearsome leader of a country which was pathologically obsessed with justice and order because her only concerns were money, power, glory, and success. Well, other than comfort. Living in the lap of luxury since birth had a way of making people particularly averse to leaving that lifestyle.

“CEDRIC! COME HERE!”

Enter a stout man with greasy brown hair and a raspy beard akin in appearance and texture to a bird’s nest. “Yes, Milady?” he asked breathlessly.

“Go and inform the guards of my readiness.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He left her chamber to follow her order, though Titania could hear hear him say “the witch is almost here”. Nevermind that, she had bigger fish to fry. Namely, the leader of a smaller neighboring nation (if it could even be called that, because it was more like a city-state and not one of the four great nations), who she intended to convince to convince was under attack by a third nation. After the war which the city-state would surely lose, she would occupy the land and expand her own empire, all the while saying that she intended to rebuild and restore what was lost in the “tragic” war. In reality, she had no such sentiments for restoration. What was some provincial structure to the princess of a successful nation and a budding warlord. Forget that, she was God!

Although religion had been adequately shoved down her throat, she had no respect for the Dytenziexitity or the people who preached his “teachings”. Mindless sheep were how they appeared to her.

Once her shoes were on, the princess stood. Her dazzling purple silk dress shone while the gold leaf trim sparkled. All of it was lost on her as she took one last deep gulp of air before she would be forced to...smile...and laugh.

She plastered a smile on her face as she left her chamber, and set a brisk pace to the ballroom. Titania, unfortunately, had to address the inquiries of commonfolk and other visitors before her meeting with the pigeon-brained Duke Clifton of Aelston and his sanguine advisors.

There seemed to be a suspicious lack of guards around. She didn’t comment on the blood staining the floors in the halls they passed, instead noting it for her reference. When they got down the room, she looked around. No one out of the ordinary around. The princess wasn’t buying it, though. The likelihood of all of her floor guards ditching work to have party and spilling copious amounts of wine in various places was pretty low. There was something awry, and Titania was no fool and much too proud to be shown up by some shadowy invader.

She stayed standing, refusing to sit in her throne. She was taught well enough that the most common place for assassins to strike was there, where every royal was sure to go, and in precisely one spot. It was easiest for archers, and the easiest place to hide because regular people didn’t dare go very close to the thrones.

Suddenly, an idea struck her and the princess struggled to hide her smirk.

She put her hands together in prayer, and uttered a common one among believers, the fools. When she was done, she looked up, muttering some nonsense about always looking up in her heart toward the Dytenziextity. A bit of movement. Ha! An assassin wearing a cloak. That nearly made her burst out in mad laughter. It was best to be unassuming, wasn’t it? No matter. She’d located the vermin, it was just time to exterminate it.

“Dear, would you mind fetching Sir Ulric for me?” Her voice was sweet enough to give anyone a cavity, and Cedric nodded agreeably, fearing her despite the face that she put forth.

A few minutes passed before a man dressed in a modest brown tunic was brought forth. He still had some breadcrumbs in his stubble, suggesting that he’d been beckoned from a meal.

“Please excuse my interrupting your eating, but there seems to be a...spider...up there above the thrones. As you know, I’m extremely phobic of them, and I couldn’t possibly address the people with one threatening to drop down on me at any second.”

“As you wish, Highness.”

Of course both of them knew it was not a spider. That was the fun of having a personal guard who was only loyal to her, teaching him the art of being diplomatically discreet.