The next morning, Amara stood before the throne room doors — still dressed in the same modest suit she'd worn to the interview. Her face was calm, but her eyes were different now: sharp, resolved, royal.
Chris sat on the throne, papers before him, Soren at his right. The air carried authority, but there was also something personal about the tension.
"Your Majesty," Amara said, stepping forward, "you wanted to see me."
Chris rose from his seat slowly, descending the dais with that signature quiet power that made every guard in the room straighten.
He stopped in front of her. "You remember what I told you yesterday?"
She nodded. "That I should know how it feels to live under the laws we wrote."
He took a deep breath. "Good. You've learned the feeling. Now—" he leaned in slightly, his voice steady, but burning — "you'll go back there… and change it."
Amara blinked. "What?"
Chris's tone deepened. "Go back to that same building. Reveal who you are. Fire that manager. Fire everyone who enforced that rule. Then rewrite it."
She looked at him — shocked, almost frozen. "You're serious?"
"I don't make jokes about justice," he said. "That law was made to test loyalty. Not to strip people of dignity. Somewhere along the line, we turned order into oppression. Fix it."
Soren's mouth twitched in a rare show of approval. "So it begins…" he muttered.
Chris turned to him. "Prepare the Royal Transport. I want every street camera live when she arrives. Let the people see their queen walk into injustice — and turn it inside out."
---
Scene: The Return.
Hours later, the city was boiling with whispers.
"The Queen is coming!"
"Amara Blackwood? Here?"
"She's going to the Employment Bureau!"
A black convoy rolled down the main avenue. The royal crest gleamed under the morning sun. Security flanked every side.
When the cars stopped, the same manager who had rejected her stepped outside in confusion — only to freeze as he saw her emerge from the backseat, surrounded by guards.
The woman he'd dismissed like a commoner now walked toward him with the grace of a goddess.
"Do you… remember me?" Amara asked.
His throat tightened. "Y-Your Majesty…"
"Yesterday I was Miss Stone to you," she said, stopping just inches from his face. "Today, I'm your reality check."
He dropped to his knees instantly. "Forgive me, my Queen—"
"Stand up," she snapped. "Your apology means nothing if the rule still stands."
She turned toward the stunned crowd of staff and applicants. "Effective immediately, every discriminatory policy based on number hierarchy in employment is abolished. Merit will rule where numbers once did."
The crowd gasped. Cameras flashed. Soldiers stood straighter.
Amara continued, her voice echoing through the marble hall:
> "From this day forward, the value of a Blackwood citizen is not written in digits… but proven in deeds."
Then she looked back at the manager. "You're dismissed. Collect your belongings. You'll be reassigned to street sanitation — under the same system you enforced."
He bowed low, trembling.
Amara turned to the press cameras. "Let it be known that the King does not rule alone. Justice wears two crowns."
---
Back at the Palace.
Chris watched the live broadcast on the giant screen in silence. His reflection glimmered beside hers as she spoke to the reporters.
Soren chuckled. "You knew she'd make history today, didn't you?"
Chris smirked faintly. "I didn't need to know. I just needed to let her feel first. The rest… she was born for it."
He stood, turning toward the window. "Prepare a national broadcast. Tonight, I'll declare a reform across all sectors — starting with the labor law."
Soren nodded. "The people will celebrate this one."
Chris's eyes narrowed slightly.
> "Good. Let them celebrate their Queen… before they remember their King."
--