Three years passed.
Ariana sat in the middle of the council, her expression as neutral as ever. The leaders refused to say a word. At this point, if they had ever said a woman was not supposed to lead, they had been entirely wrong—because the queen had not even spoken yet, and here they were, trembling like chickens doused with hot water.
One of the elders finally spoke quietly.
"We have not brought this up in a long time, for years now, and we have come together to give some advice."
He stood with a bow. Ariana said nothing. They all looked at each other, wondering if her silence meant to go on or to stop talking. Curiosity filled the air until one of them stood, waiting for the queen's order.
Ariana sat in the room, one hand tapping ever so slowly on the paper as her foot rested calmly on the floor. The council members stared—the way she just sat there, one hand tapping, already made their hearts race with fear.
