The Queen sat next to her husband in bed. He was fast asleep while she, keeping the lamp on low, was writing. Her quill flicked around haphazardly, but she was making sure her words were thoughtful.

Dearest Sister Diane,

Due to the tragic situation of the untimely departing of my daughter, I must ask you a great, great favor. I am no longer a youthful maiden. God saw fit to take my child from me but I would die before seeing Rocqueburne turned into a parliament state.

We have been much impressed with Lillian’s studies and development into a fine, courtly woman. We believe she, above all others, would be a most fitting princess and eventual successor to all of Rocqueburne.

It’s with a heavy heart I even write you, but thinking of the future keeps me from dwelling in the present.

Sincerely,

Kathleen

The Queen read over her letter five times. Of course her sister would agree to this; it would lift her from a simple duchess to Queen Mother. Putting her ink and feathers away, the Queen turned down her lamp and laid her head upon a soft pillow. Sharp, educated, tactical, and ruthless, Lillian was the daughter she should have had.

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