October Writing Prompts Day 2

She was looking forward to the ceremony. Of course she was– she'd been waiting her whole life for this. Today marked the truth of her birthright. Queen. It had a nice ring to it, she thought. The weight of the title matched the weight of the dress she was wearing, the weight of the cloak on her shoulders. It matched the weight of the crown. When the crown had first touched her brow, during a practice run of the coronation, her neck had immediately bent under the weight. It felt as though the hunk of metal on her head was judging her, deeming her unworthy of it. As though it were deeming her unworthy of the power that came with it, as well. She had snapped her head up immediately, fire in her eyes. The priest said she looked like a true leader. A born leader, if he may have been so bold. Of course she was a born leader– the crown was only hers through a chance of fate. She could've been born into any family, but she was born into this one. She could've had any birth order, but (as in most things), she was first. She'd been born during an eclipse, which the priests said was a harbinger. She would bring change. The priests disagreed on the specifics, such as if the change would be good or bad, and if change was good or bad in the first place. Some said change was inherently a bad thing– if we've always done it this way, it can't be a bad thing. Some said change was inherently good– it's necessary for people, they said, to never stagnate. The wisest, in her opinion, said change was only as good or bad as the effects it wrought upon the land. So far, she couldn't say she'd wrought any effects. Today could change that. She smiled at her mother, who stood at her side, back straight as an arrow. Her father was on her right, endlessly calm and endlessly regal. It wasn't tradition, for them to step down without dying. Practically unheard of, honestly. But they were tired of ruling. It had been a long time coming. So today they would walk her down the long aisle, toward the dais. They would hand her off like a bride at a wedding. ( It could be said, she thought, that this arrangement was like a marriage of convenience. She was born and no one had to worry who would lead the country one day. She was born to the king, and she never had to search for her own way. Convenient, if a little cold.) There would be a real wedding, someday, of convenience. To a prince. She didn't like princes, but it was her duty– could she swing a marriage with a princess? No, now wasn't the time to think of that. Clearing her thoughts, she gripped her parents arms in her own. The doors to the hall opened, and together, they descended the stairs. Five hundred steps. A hundred. Fifty. Two more steps until everything would change. One more step until the crown.