Rosaria vividly remembered the anger in her brother's voice as he shouted protests while the guards dragged him away so many years ago.
Prince Claudius had been next in line to take over his father's throne after the death of the great king, but Claudius was cold, violent, and near psychotic. His hunger for power was obvious, and the kingdom feared him for that.
While he was only a boy when his father died, he was still capable of enough power to strike terror into the subjects. He'd always brag about how he'd shape the kingdom into his own, always projecting his own dark thoughts on how he'd severely punish even the most minor of crimes, how he'd have his own house of beautiful women, and how he'd plan to trample over rival kingdoms and take them under his own rule.
Yes, Claudius, while young, had the mind of a psychotic warlord, and so the people ordered for him to be banished, thus placing his younger sister in line to take over her late father's throne.
Rosaria was a few years younger than her brother. Of course, a girl of such adolescence could not take position of a queen, and so the kingdom waited patiently until she was of age to be crowned. During that time, everyone had forgotten about the banished prince. They spent more time excitedly awaiting the new rule of the princess.
While she was still young after being crowned, she was extremely clever. Rosaria was cold, strict, but knew the difference between right and wrong. She understood government like a scholar, she could duel like a knight, dance like a lady, and she could rule like, well, a queen. That made her perfect to take over the throne. And not only that, she was beautiful. Not exactly the type of beautiful that most men would think of when they heard the word. No. She was beautiful in her own terrifyingly intelligent way, and as she grew older, that beauty only showed greater.
At twenty-two years of age, Rosaria stood tall with confident posture and a strong, yet feminine physique. Her skin had darkened to a dull golden-brown color from her leisure in the sun. Her chocolate hair hung over her shoulders in gentle curls when not being styled up in intricate braids. Her body was any man's dream; her chest and shoulders slightly broad, but her waist curving to that perfect hourglass shape. Her hips were wide and perfectly accommodated her thick, toned thighs. Her breasts were of perfect size and roundness, but were always modestly covered by her dresses. Although, even though Rosaria remained modestly dressed, she still didn't fail to catch the prying eyes of men, but they were rightfully too frightened to approach such a woman of high authority.
Rosaria had grown to become the perfect ruler. She was gorgeous, intelligent, and strict. She would receive praise from those that supported her, and struck fear in those that opposed her. Her thoughts and actions were never questioned, and she as a woman of such power was always respected.
Ever since the princess had become the queen, she had forgotten all about her brother, until one morning...
"Your Highness!" One of the servants rushed into the study, brandishing a white envelope that was sealed with the red familial emblem.
The queen cocked an eyebrow as she gazed at her servant from where she sat at the desk. "What did I tell you about knocking, Thompson?"
Her servent swallowed and nervously fumbled into a bow of apology. "M-my apologies, Your Highness, but a letter arrived for you! And it has the royal emblem, miss!" He quickly said.
Rosaria tilted her head in intrigue. "Oh? Bring it here then."
Her servent quickly brought the envelope over and handed it to the queen. He watched with nervous anticipation as she slowly opened it. Her silence as she read over the contents was agonizing and seemed to last far too long. Thompson fidgeted anxiously as he watched a look of concern and intrigue cross Rosaria's face, but he didn't dare ask what the letter was about.
"It seems...my dearest brother wants to visit." She murmured in interest as she set the piece of parchment down.
Thompson nearly jumped out of his skin. "T-The banished prince?! Oh no! No, Your Highness, he was sent away! He isn't allowed to return!"
"Hush," The queen snapped. Her servent immediately shut his mouth.
He watched as she reached for a feather quill and dipped it into a bottle of ink. She began to write something down on a piece of blank parchment. "I suppose I wouldn't mind if he came by." She said.
The servant scratched the back of his neck. "Um...Y-Your Highness, forgive me for asking, but...why?"
Rosaria's smile sent a chill running down his spine. "It has been thirteen years since my brother was banished. I can't say that I miss him, because I don't. However, it would be interesting to see what sort of person he's become over the years, wouldn't you think so, Thompson?"
Before her servant could answer, she sealed up her reply and stamped it with that same royal emblem. She then handed the envelope to Thompson and he stared at it as if it were about to combust. "Send that away. I accept." Rosaria waved him off.
The servant didn't hesitate and soon rushed off to deliver the reply. He wanted to question the queen's judgement, but he didn't dare. Why would she openly invite the banished prince back into the palace so easily? Rosaria was an extremely clever woman, so Thompson assumed that she knew what she was doing.
Months passed, and soon the day arrived.
Very few of the servants had worked in the palace long enough to remember the prince, but those who did dreaded Claudius's arrival.
