It is a cold night in the castle, as rain pours and beats down the glass of the queen's spire. She is in her luxurious chair, gazing outwards with worry written plainly on her face. She has not eaten since the last night, and she has hardly slept for a week now. Her husband, her wonderful husband, the king, had not returned on the date he had promised from his war across the sea. "Perhaps his sheep has been beset by bad weather and must wait friendlier winds" she had hoped, but as the days grew longer her hopes were growing dimmer. She turned her head as she heard a faint creak from the door to her room as it slowly peered opened. "My queen" her maid spoke, "a message from abroad. It's... about his majesty, the king". She immediately shot up. "My husband? What is the news? Is he unharmed? Has he been captured?" She shot question after question but was ultimately met with the uncomfortable shifting of a girl who had been deemed disposable enough to be the messenger of bad news. The queen was optimistic, but even she knew what such an expression conveyed. Her face fell, and she grew silent. The maid continued. "My queen, the king... the king won the war, but he was injured and fell ill during his return. He perished from his illness before making it to port. His body will be shipped back to the castle for a funeral service before being entombed in the royal mausoleum along with his ancestors... My queen... I'm truly sorry. I shall leave you to grieve". And with that, the maid retired from her bedroom and closed the door.
The Queen sat there, staring at nothing. She did not weep or scream. Instead, she simply sat limply and stared at the far wall. No matter how much she had prayed, it seems it was all for naught. Her dear beloved husband had left her, alone, to rule a cold empty world without him. She was furious at him for a time, but that anger quickly shifted to sadness as she remembered the myriad promises that were made and would now never come true. Yet, the more she contemplated these promises, and reflected on the life they lived together, she remembered one of the few promises that were kept, and continued to give her strength. A light in her current darkness, and the one thing she was the most proud of ever having been a part of...
As the storm clouds began to recede, the earliest rays of dawn were beginning to seep past the cloud cover and into the world below. A weary prince was awoken by a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Huh... what is...", "Shh, It's me, mother". With wearily, the prince slowly lifted himself upright in the bed while wiping the sleep from his eyes. "Mmm what is it mother... has father returned?" When his eyes opened, he instantly saw the weight on his mother's soul and slowly began to understand why she had come to him so early. "Your father perished a hero overseas. You are the king now. I felt it best to let you know now before you are swamped by politicians and begin on your path to ascending the throne." His grief hardly had time to settle before the news shook him to his core. "Wait, what? I am to be king now? B-but I'm not ready! Surely you could lead until my coronation-" he managed to say before being interrupted by a finger to his lips. "You know the people will never tolerate a woman in power. You are of age now, you are old enough to take up your father's mantle. You have a responsibility to him, me, and the people of this nation to build a bright new future for us all. Your father might not be around to see it, but I know you are capable of it". With those words of inspiration, the prince contemplated his situation and began to examine all the new powers and responsibilities that had been thrust upon him. He felt a crushing pressure, but when he looked to his grieving mother, he knew he what he had to say. "Very well then mother. For you, and for father, I shall ascend the throne". "Good, then you must also know that as the new king, by divine mandate you are required to have a wife to be your queen". The widening of his eyes let her know that he, in fact, did not know that. "The clergy will not accept you as a king until you have a wife and heir to devote yourself to. Did you have someone in mind?" The young prince racked his brain, but found not a single girl who he had crossed paths with he would have fancied enough to consider marrying. With resignation, he explained, "Unfortunately mother no, I do not. I have been far too busy with my studies as of late for such things" The queen simply gave a curt "I see". As the two stayed there in the awkward silence, she slowly moved towards the bed and sat gently beside him. "Son, there is something you must know." "What is it mother?" "Your father wished to explain the significance of your bloodline to you when you were older, but it seems I will have to suffice. You see son, we of royal blood are not like the common folk. We are a rare breed, who just as the farmer has been bred to till the soil, we too have been bred to lead men. Across the generations, your father's line has taken a collection of hungry people and turned them into a powerful fighting force and economic powerhouse. It is your lineage that defines you, and that is precisely why it has been a long held tradition in our family to keep this blood within ourselves; Both so that it not be muddled with lesser cloth and so that no bastard children may attempt to overthrow the rightful royal line" The prince tried to follow along, but he was caught up on one implication that he wished to have clarified. "Mother, when you say 'within ourselves', do you mean..." She looked away slightly in shame. "Yes, it is as you suspect. Your father was my uncle's son, and my mother's nephew. Put simply, we were cousins. Were I to reveal more of our family tree, it would admittedly look more like a shrub." The young prince reeled from this. "Wait, is that why both my grandfathers looked so much alike?" "Let's not get into too much detail. The important part is that you are our only child, and your uncles and aunts all bore sons. Beyond even that, your youngest aunt is too old to bear children, thus..." She looked down as she slowly reached for his crotch before continuing. "I suppose that means that as the youngest female family member, the responsibility of siring your offspring..." The queen looked up and said: "Belongs to me."