The Queen’s sigh seemed to echo over the whole castle, even the carved humanoid statues below looked moved by her deep sorrow. She sat on her 25 story high balcony surveying her kingdom. It was crumbling to ruins and oh, boy did she know it. After the King’s mysterious disappearance, life in Alorr was miserable. The people’s pockets emptied out as did their faith and trust in her. The farmers were in debt had faced problems not seen for the last 20 years. But this was nothing to compare with the Queen’s own sorrowful, deteriorating personal life. At only 18, the responsibility of a whole state had been thrust upon her. She had no idea as to what she was supposed to be doing. Her ministers supported her decisions and counseled her but eventually it was her wisdom she would need in being a good Queen to the people. If you looked at her now at 20, you would think she was a middle aged woman. Her once beautiful and radiant eyes now had a hollow look and where surrounded by valleys and ridges of wrinkles. When looking at her eyes it was like looking into the depts. of hell. Her hair, now limp and greying, was the complete opposite of her once lustrous brown cascading hair. On the first arrival of the new Spanish Queen, everyone had been struck by her radiating beauty but now the once loving states people dreaded looking at the dying Queen. She didn’t have family, love or happiness. Queen Robyn was a lonely banshee stuck in the crumbling castle of “Du’jour de Alorr”, waiting for her knight in shining armor.
Where only my thoughts have been
Take me to the moon
