It had been barely a few moments since Evonia had passed. It was the strangest feeling to not have her guiding presence in my life. I had always thought that when I would finally have a piece of my rightful destiny that I would feel some sort of righteousness or empowerment, but that had yet to manifest. There was only an empty numbness for the person I had adopted as my new mother. I knew in my heart that when I heard of my true mother and father's deaths, I would not feel a fraction of what I did for Evonia.

I had been by her side as she faded, it was a surreal experience to see someone who looked still like she could be my older sister fighting to hold onto life. It wasn't until her strength had finally waned that her true image was revealed to be a frail, white-haired old woman. I had looked away quickly to help preserve her vanity in her final moments until Mari could lend some of her own power to rekindle the glamour.

Part of me wished I had known the true image of her. She had looked wise and knowing, I felt that she had earned her wrinkles and white hairs. Perhaps I just had a hard time accepting that someone who had looked barely old enough to be my mother was dead, never to be by my side again.

“It is what she wanted, you know,” Mari said gently as we stood outside the bedchamber just after Evonia had taken her last breath. “She died knowing that you were here to take her place and continue with her mission.”

I gave a short nod of acceptance. I was afraid to open my mouth least my emotions get the better of me. It felt like I should honor her by keeping up the strong leader aesthetic when not in private. Mari seemed to catch on and gave her own knowing nod.

“How about I get a servant to bring us a couple of drinks and we'll discuss where to go from here in my bedroom?”

I indicated my agreement and she let out the shrill whistle between her teeth that she used to call a servant to her. She ordered two mugs of the hard cider from that fall be brought to her room and we made our way to her chambers.

Mugs in hand with the door closed to the outside world, I felt my face fall into a look of defeat. Evonia had been one of the only two people I truly trusted. It clawed at the back of my mind that Mari and Evonia were sisters fairly close in age, so it may not be long until I lose Mari as well.

“You're thinking about my death,” Mari said suddenly with a wane smile.

“Yes,” I admitted. It would have been useless to deny it, Mari could catch anyone in a lie.

She drew in a deep breath, then let it out as a sigh. Her eyes began to rim with tears.

“I have to admit that I've been thinking about it too.” She let a halfhearted laugh escape her lips. “Kind of hard not to when your sister dies.”

I frowned and put my mug of cider down to rise and settle into the couch next to Mari. We had not been overly physically affectionate throughout the years, but she had saved me and given me everything. I wrapped an arm around her and gently squeezed. The gesture seemed to bring a real laugh to Mari's mouth and she shook her head a bit.

“Here we are, the mistresses of darkness and we both need a cuddle.”

“Don't worry, I wouldn't dare tell anyone,” I gently joked.

“I would kill you.” She laughed, but I knew it wasn't an entirely empty threat. Mari did have an image to uphold after all.

“You would kill your new queen?” I asked, acting falsely taken aback.

“You're not queen until Rafe performs the coronation,” she reminded. “For now, my queen still lies in her deathbed.”

We went silent except for the sound of our sipping on the cider. It was difficult to know what to do or say from here. There was much we needed to do like arrange for a funeral and a coronation, but in the wee hours after a fresh death there was never motivation to do anything but sit and try to process how different life suddenly was.

By morning, we had gone through what had to have been a sizable chunk of the cider stores. It was probably for the best, because upon waking still slouched across the couch, I felt like I had slept deeply. Mari had dragged herself to her own bed at some point, though had never bothered to lift the covers to crawl underneath.

Opening the door to return to my own room, I nearly ran into a servant who had been working up the courage to knock on the door.

“Oh, sorry Mistress,” she stammered, “but there is someone from the House Drak here to meet with you.”

My mind snapped to attention. They very rarely made the trip over, it seemed that they tended not to care much for the human world. Of course, they had arrived on a morning where I had slept in my clothes from the night before.

“Please have them meet me in the grand sitting room,” I barely uttered out before speed-walking towards my room. I had no idea where they were in the castle currently and I desperately hoped that I wouldn't run into them on my way to look at least half-decent.

Tearing apart my room for an appropriate outfit, I quickly realized that I would need a new, queenly wardrobe. I seemed to have dozens of pairs of training robes and basic outfits, but I needed to make an impression. I let out an exasperated cry as I tossed all the rejects onto my bed, cursing that I hadn't thought to have at least one worthy outfit for my first day as a monarch.

Taking a deep breath in to calm my frustration, I looked over all the boring outfits and tried to formulate a plan. The obvious idea was to use magic to enhance or change some of the clothing, but unlike my grandmother and aunt, shape-shifting did not seem to be my strong suit. I could manage it, but it took a toll on me. There really wasn't anything else to be done, I would just have to hope that the meeting would be relatively brief.

Grounding myself, I felt the magical energy flow through my feet and up to my hands. The hairs on my neck prickled in pleasure from the feeling of the power coursing through me. I willed a magnificent, monarchy-worthy outfit to take the place of one of the training tunics. I gave the magic no specific instruction, only intent, so it was a surprise when it began to manifest before me. The tunic had become a strapless, black silk dress that flowed like ripples of water to the ground. Holes had been cut out on either side of the torso, leaving only a teasingly tiny strip of fabric that would cover my bellybutton. It certainly would be a risky outfit for the kind of kingdom I had been born into, but I had a feeling that it would have done Evonia proud.

Slipping on the garment, it just felt right. I would never be the kind of queen with elaborate ball gowns and jewels down to her knees. It always seemed like such complex outfits covered up insecurities about the extent of their power. In my mind, a truly powerful person did not need to warn or convince others of their power, the reputation should precede you.

The member of the House of Drak waiting on me was not who I imagined. All of the House members I had met before had been demons wearing obvious glamours, this woman exuded power, but seemed to naturally look humanoid.

“Greetings Lady Toria,” she said with a melodic and distinctly demonic accent. “I had hoped to meet in better circumstances.”

She was absolutely captivating. While human, her skin was the color of rich caramel that seemed to have almost a hint of a metallic sheen. Her eyes were dark enough to be mistaken for completely black and her ashen hair had been plaited in an overly complex pattern that stretched nearly to her knees. I felt myself stricken by her appearance, more so that any beautiful glamour I had seen before. Perhaps it was the fact that her looks appeared to be natural.

“Greetings Lady...”

“Mistra,” she replied and outstretched her hand.

I clasp her hand gently with my own, my heart skipping a beat as our skin touched.

“I am so very sorry to hear about your grandmother,” she said sincerely, “she was well loved by our kingdom as well.”

“Thank you, she will be sorely missed. Especially by Mari and myself.”

She nodded understandingly. It was strange to be speaking with someone I knew to be a Drak while also feeling like their emotions and expressions were genuine.

“Pardon if this seems out of turn,” I began, “but you do not seem like the others.”

She laughed lightly and nodded in agreement.

“I am certainly not quite like the rest of the Draks, that is true. I am only half-demon. My mother was a human, thus I am less cold and calculating and more... well... human in my emotions.”

“I had no idea that the two could interbreed,” I said in shock. The idea that it was possibly seemed extremely far-fetched, almost as fantastic as the idea of a lion and a zebra.

“I don't believe that my father thought it possible either. To say the very least, I was a bit of a surprise.”

“It must be amazing to be something so rare and exotic,” I complimented. At least it was meant to be a complement.

“Exotic? Usually that word only is used on me when someone finds me particularly attractive.” A knowing smile crept across her sharp features.

Unsure how to recover, I instead turned my attention to offering us to take a seat to be able to talk more comfortably. I desperately wished that my glamour skills were easier to use on the fly so that I could cover the reddening of my cheeks in a sneaky way.

“What gives me the honor of hosting a member of the House Drak?” I offered as a change of topic.

“Well, being the only member with a true sense of decency, I felt it necessary to personally offer my condolences and extend an offer of assistance if you should find yourself in need of it.”

“That might be nice, I have no idea what to do from here,” I admitted.

Sure, we had talked a lot about what it took to keep a castle running and the servants in line, but it had been an awkward topic to speak about what would happen when Evonia died. Though awkward, I really wished that we would have pushed through the odd feelings to establish what I were to do. I knew she deserved an elaborate ceremony and burial, but I didn't know where to even start with organizing it.

Mistra nodded understandingly and breathed in deeply as the thought. “Well, I guess the first place to start will be to establish what day you would like the burial to be. I assume that you will not have to worry about preserving the body as Mari should be more than capable of preventing decay.”

I couldn't stop myself from shuddering at the idea of Evonia's body needed to be preserved. This was someone who had raised me for the most meaningful years.

“Sorry if that was too explicit,” she apologized, “but unfortunately during these times sometimes we need to push through the unpleasantness to make necessary progress.”

Letting out a sigh, I agreed and indicated that I would appreciate it if she continued.

“Then you will need to dedicate a spot for her body, cement the plans for the actual burial ceremony, and then the wake feast. I would be happy to offer the services of our house cooks to help putting together the feast.”

“Thank you, I think Mari will be the one to talk about the feast, I need to start delegating now that I am bound for coronation.”

She nodded and patted the back of my hand.

“Don't worry about that too much, since you had agreed to continue the merge of our Houses, it is my father's duty to arrange that. We will just need to establish a time for that as well. In actuality, I don't think you will have as much on your plate as you probably feel like you do now.”

I let out a held breath. It still felt like a lot, but at least I wouldn't be responsible for everything. Being a monarch really should come with a manual of some type. Or at least a cheat sheet. Hopefully, far in the future, when I would realize that my reign would come to an end, I would remember this feeling and leave some sort of guide.