Part 1: Curses

There's always been a spell of mystery about the Dark Throne, which my great-granduncle sat on. Even more about the Ebony Crown that used to sit on his head.

Of course, there's no more mystery now. My great-granduncle is dead.

I will have to sit on the throne.

I will have to wield the Ivory Scepter.

The officials don't trust me as they should, the nobility is probably plotting my imminent downfall, and I have no one by my side.

I should start writing my last testament. If I have the time, my obituary.

Just great.

Maybe it's for the best since I'm a cursed queen anyway.

Oh, I didn't tell you? I'm cursed. I will never see my eighteenth birthday because I'm fated to die on my seventeenth.

I won't even live to become twenty-one. Which is when I am allowed to abdicate from the throne voluntarily, pass on to my nearest kin and escape from this political hell.

But I will not because I know that if I give up my throne, my successor will be nowhere near ready for the things they will face.

I'll wait until I'm sure that they're ready.

I'm sure as hell not.

How could anyone be ready for sitting on the Dark Throne?

How could anyone be readily accepting of the terrifying power of the Ebony Crown?

How could anyone be ready for facing the fears which come with the Ivory Scepter?

I still remember the exact moment when I realized I would have to sit on the Dark Throne and lead the Kingdom. I was horrified. How could I be ready to have this power? I only knew of my being a royal descendant nine months ago, which was when my great-granduncle sent his royal guards to the bottom of the mountain where I lived to summon me to the palace.

I barely even knew how to live in a palace, how to deal with politics, how to handle the bureaucratically challenging aspects of ruling a kingdom. I didn't know how to make peace with different kingdoms, didn't know how to read between the lines.

How was I going to rule? To lead?

Let's not forget that I have a curse looming over my head as well. I won't even live to see my eighteenth year.

Oh well. It isn't as though I can do anything about it. All I can do is lead by example and hope that my successor will learn from my mistakes and take after the good parts of my reign.

I won't know how I will be remembered.

I'll be six feet under by then.