15. Nicholas
15
Nicholas
A sledgehammer to the formally structured idea I’d built to house the search for a queen. That’s what that interaction had been. Nora’s unrestrained, frankly wise beyond her years, opinion regarding the qualities of a good queen offered a new perspective. One I could have missed completely, and the kingdom would only have suffered for it.
A kind woman had been my top quality. Cunning was Ricks’, though he would never phrase it in such a way. He’d say, "a woman who excels at the art of conversation when it comes to politics" . But strong hadn’t been something I’d considered. When Nora had elaborated on the type of strength, I realized where it’d come from.
Nora knew the kingdom needed someone who would help her people, because she saw the suffering herself, perhaps even lived it. She didn’t say the words, but the insinuation struck me as clear as a cloudless day. She thought I turned a blind eye because it’s unpleasant.
Not married. Surprising, since she had a beauty that radiated even in drab clothing surrounded by a sea of elegant attire. I hadn’t asked her age, and wondered if she took on the role of chaperone because she didn’t fall within the range. Perhaps we’d limited the parameters too much.
She and her sisters wasted no time scurrying away, except for packing some untouched sweets. My fault for keeping her away from the spread. The sight amused me—no other lady had been so bold—until it saddened me.
Unpleasant conditions. Despite the ladies dressing in their finery today, I had no idea what they’d left to come here, and what they’d return to. Perhaps the bundled treats were to fend off starvation. Thin, possibly too thin, were most of the ladies in attendance today.
Forced smiles that didn’t meet my eyes consumed the rest of the luncheon, along with those automatic responses that Nora saw right through. Listening to the other ladies with half a mind, my thoughts drifted to the dark beauty mark, a lone freckle that dotted the upper part of her cheek. The one that raised upward slightly when she’d laughed and smiled. The one that fell when she’d realized her candor came out blunt. That’s where part of my mind remained until the afternoon concluded.
I sat on my throne, knuckles digging into my cheek while Ricks rattled off the top contenders from the day. He beamed, bragging that if South Harbor offered so much promise, the others were sure to present the next queen.
I reflected again on what Nora had said. She wanted to emphasize that we should see their poverty as something to benefit the throne, not hinder it. The grating task of selecting a cordial queen shifted to something more. Another opportunity to change the kingdom and help the people that didn’t involve donning a black outfit. What started as a public relations assignment evolved into something that could change the entire course of Highcrest’s history if I chose well.
Now to find the right woman for the job.