Melopemine

Once upon a time, when the land of Hera had been made up of a single city and had flourished in the delightful scenery of flora and fauna thriving on the outskirts of the city's walls, covering the rest of the large land, there had been a Queen residing on the throne.

Her vanity was the envy of many women and Queens across the twelve kingdoms of Galaxis, causing a collection of admiration and disdain towards the Queen’s name and all she stood for.

Many men would often throw away their lives in order to pursue the beautiful Queen. Some Kings had even thrown away their wives in order to promote their dedication towards the powerful Queen of Hera. Her beauty simply suppressed all else; she was the very perfection of wonder and every bit as charming and charismatic as was expected of the public.

Alas, she had been so young when she had ascended to the throne. Her youthful body was not to be touched or looked at by anyone until she was of age. Thus a scuffle between man and king commenced until the Queen attended her Coming of Age Ceremony and the bloody battle came to a standstill shortly after her marriage to a young King from a distant, unknown kingdom.

Weeks passed and the new King died. Poisoned by none other than the Queen herself. No-one had suspected this of her, not when her beauty, innocence and charisma wrapped itself around her like the ideal garb; shrouding her from the sight of suspecting eyes. Her demonstrations for mourning were beyond convincing to the public’s eye and when the wars between Galaxis’ Kingdoms had begun to commence, the Queen had shut herself away from all of it; leaving it to her dead husband’s ministers and councils while she focused on her own reflection.

In due time, the wars between the kingdoms had come to a halt, leaving the most troublesome matters upon Emvolo and Minoas. Hera was free of this discriminatory act between race and politics, thus the Queen decided to close off Hera’s walls, cutting off many signs of civilisation from its neighbouring Kingdoms of Dioscuri and Nemea.

Hera became its own world and the Queen was not bothered by anything that happened unless it had something to do with her Kingdom. Which was when her attention became fixated upon the small ceremony her deceased husband’s dearest friend, the Chancellor of Hera’s council, had arranged on account of his first child being born. The Queen decided to make herself present at this little ceremony, for she was also with child.

Upon arrival, the Queen was horrified to find the Chancellor’s wife to be a woman with grand charisma, innocent eyes and beauty which could capture the heart of any man. Furthermore, her beauty and wonder had been passed on to the Chancellor’s newly born son.

The Queen’s fury boiled as she became aware of the scene, taking note how all the men within the room paid no mind to her; but instead kept their gaze plastered upon the Chancellor’s beautiful wife.

So furious was the Queen, she foolishly cut the pale flesh of her palm against her broach, having been gripping the jewel in anger ever since her arrival. A silence like no other befell the room when all eyes finally drew towards the Queen and her bloody hand. Expressions of fear and surprise were written across everyone’s faces as they stared at the splatter of bright red blood soaking into the smooth fabrics of her white blouse.

The Queen smiled. She had been known for her terrible temper before and wished to remove all trace of her wrongdoings; hoping to regain her original reputation as a sweet, caring Queen who’s beauty and grace would never be forgotten throughout the Kingdom. Throughout the world.

“Please, return to your dining, my servants,” the Queen chanted and raised her bloody hand in the air. “The Gods above have sent me a vision. They have ensured me that my child will be the sweetest flower in all the land. They will be as beautiful and bright as the satin lace I wear today, their blood as rich and bright as my own, and their justification as sharp as my broach.”

The majority of the room cheered and praised the words granted by their beloved Queen, no longer fearful of her reaction to injury. Music stirred in the comfort that smothered the occupants in the room as they returned to their dining as requested by her majesty.

The Queen had no doubt in her heart that the child she carried within her womb would indeed surpass the beauty of all in the land; dispelling the delusional rumours that the Chancellor’s wife was the most wonderful beauty that had ever lived. The Queen would make it so; her offspring would be the most striking creature to have ever lived and they would win the hearts of every man and woman thrice over.

But as all fairytales go, this one was soon forgotten. It is, after all, only a story.