Ara's mind had calmed down over the last few days. The vision she needed had finally come to her, clear as day – there was no mistaking it. As she sat in the lounge room of the Queen's Quarters, she studied the simple décor. She decided that if she were ever to be a queen, her palace would be decorated in the most ridiculous, over-the-top fashion, with gold and diamonds hanging from the ceiling and silverware so expensive they would have an issue with servants stealing it. She would have a deep purple silk robe that trailed metres behind her wherever she went and a team of ladies-in-waiting to tend to her every need.

How nice life would be.

Ara laughed at her own ridiculous ideas and quickly stood up when Queen Yifa entered the room, curtseying.

“Ara, how have you been, dear?” the Queen asked, taking her hands and giving her a brief and shallow hug.

“Very well, Your Highness.”

“Come, let's sit. Tea should be arriving shortly. Have you eaten breakfast yet? Shall we have brunch?”

“I have eaten already, please go ahead if you haven't.”

“Very well. I was so pleased at the news my husband gave me today, I could barely contain my excitement. I'm so happy, Ara.”

“I'm happy that you are.” she replied, watching the servant who brought in a tray of tea. “His Highness said he will make an announcement this evening. I'm worried that he may not be well enough to do so.”

“He has improved recently, it won't be an issue.” the Queen replied, turning to the servant who had finished preparing the tea. “Would you bring some brunch for me? Please tell the chef to surprise me.”

“Certainly, Your Highness.”

Ara watched the young woman leave, before her turning her eyes back to Queen Yifa, a bemused expression on her face. She hadn't seen the Queen be so joyous in such a long time. She had spent her entire life alongside the grand woman in front of her and knew that she was a compassionate person and soft hearted. That was why she always called upon Ara to smack down any civil servants who showed signs of disrespect – she didn't have it in her to do it herself.

“Ara,” Queen Yifa began after finishing her meal, “I wanted to see you, not only to thank you for finally having the vision we so desperately needed, but because I have arranged something for you.”

“Is it a date?” Ara asked, perhaps a little too bluntly as the Queen shot her a look.

“My dear, you know I want nothing more than for you to settle down and marry.” she explained. “But yes, it is indeed a date. Are you willing to meet him?”

No.

“Yes.”

“Oh, Ara, I found the best man I possibly could. I sent out Lady Camilla to pursue the list that I had come up with and while there were a few positive results, I couldn't ignore the most suitable man, and he's someone I know well!”

“Who is he, Your Highness?”

“General Lang! The second-in-command of the Royal Guard.”

“General Lang? He's ancient!” Ara blurted out, disgust all over her face.

“Oh no, no! That General Lang retired a few months ago, his son recently took over for him. His name is Hunter, he's only a few years older than you.”

Ara placed her hand on her heart, relief washing through her, the Queen chuckling at her dramatic reaction.

“So, will you meet him this coming Saturday afternoon?”

“Certainly, Your Highness.”

Some hours later, Ara stood in her usual place at court, her heart racing as the King stood up, poor as his health was, to make the announcement. The room fell deadly silent as everyone waited with bated breath, though Min and Zhan were the most anxious of all. Her eyes fluttered closed as the King's voice boomed out into the court room, echoing off of every surface:

“As King of Ranhara, I am duty bound to name a successor. My time is coming soon and I cannot leave my people behind without being rest assured that they have a strong leader to guide them. I hereby officially declare that the next King of Ranhara will be my son Zhan.”

The hall did not erupt into applause. Instead, the civil servants and Ara and all other members of Ranharan court chanted together:

“Long live the King. Long live the King. Long live the King.”

Ara didn't have to search for Prince Min to know that he was staring daggers at her. She wasn't sure what he expected of her but she imagined he would have a lot to say if he managed to catch her outside. It was for the best this way, she knew that, but Min wouldn't be able to accept such a decision so easily. He would seek her out and interrogate her about every second of her vision, as he often did with any decision he didn't like. She didn't have the energy to deal with him, she couldn't be bothered and she felt tired just thinking about it.

“Do you have any idea what kind of man General Lang is?” Ara asked the doctor as he set down two cups of black tea, taking a seat opposite her in his kitchen-like surgery.

The doctor shifted his weight, adjusting his glasses and thinking for a moment.

“I haven't met the man many times, maybe twice or three times in the past few months. I didn't really get much of an impression from him honestly, Your Holiness. He seemed a bit... well, he came across very masculine.”

“He is a man, isn't he?” Ara deadpanned, blowing the steam from her tea as she drank.

“I mean really masculine. He's in the military, so... you know how they can be.”

Ara made a face at the implication, staring into the liquid in her cup, shining red under the sunlight.

“I have a date with him on Saturday afternoon. The Queen set me up.”

“Oh dear.” he grimaced.

“I know.” Ara leaned her head on her hand. “I'm not sure what her criteria was for choosing a good man for me, but I doubt it involves anything that I actually look for.”

“Status and income.”

“Probably. It's not that those things aren't important – I have to continue this line of witches after all – but I'm worried there's going to be no connection.”

“Well, you won't know until you meet him, Your Holiness. It seems to me that you aren't even keen on that.”

“Is it that obvious?” she snorted.

“Give him a chance. My impression of him might be wrong. Queen Yifa only wants what's best for you, she wants you to be happy.”

“I'm already happy!” Ara snapped. “Why does she believe happiness means getting married? Why didn't she listen to me every time I've told her I'm happy as I am? Is it so hard to believe? She's done this on purpose, she always does this – making herself out to be some saint because she took the initiative to do something I told her I didn't need.”

“She's just trying to help!” the doctor argued back. “It may not be your idea of caring but it's how she shows it. I doubt she forced you to meet this guy, you probably agreed to it yourself when you had the option to reject it. Why agree if it makes you so annoyed?”

Ara placed a hand over her cup, sliding it forward over the counter and rising from her seat, ignoring the doctor's protests as she stormed out of the office and across the courtyard. Great. He was the only real ally she had and even he was defending the Queen? He wasn't close with the Queen, how could he possibly understand the pressure that came along with serving her directly? He couldn't. He had no idea. She continued to blaze across the grounds, her mood apparent to every passing servant who steered clear of her path upon catching sight of her.

* * *

Ara looked at herself in the mirror, scrutinising her choice of clothing for the date. She was to meet Hunter that afternoon at a museum. From there, they were to decide what they would do together. She didn't own many different colours of robe, almost everything in her closet was black or some shade of deep green, purple or red. Nothing she owned screamed femininity or fragility. Then again, would an army man appreciate that? She cocked her head to one side. She didn't really care about what he appreciated.

It was decided, then. Her usual black robe would do. She would tie her feather shawl around her shoulders and wear a fancy headdress, maybe an amethyst one. Her eye make-up looked good, her eyes were one of her best features. Picking up a headdress, she examined the mechanics of it, being unused to putting them on by herself. It just looked like one intricate loop attached to another intricate loop. Fiddling around with the clasps, she soon realised that the thick loop was supposed to go around her ponytail and the thinner, more delicate loop was the bit that sat flat on top of her head, the jewel of which would fall to the centre of her forehead.

Impressed by her own efforts, Ara dug out the matching earrings from her jewellery box and fastened them in. There. She stood back, pulling her sleeves down a little bit, wondering if the robe was too much. It was one that had a more snug fit on the sleeves and body.

“It's fine!” she told herself, getting tired of looking at her reflection and grabbed her feather shawl, securing it around her shoulders before leaving.

One hour later, Ara stood in front of General Hunter Lang outside of the National Ranhara Gallery. She stretched her palm out and stopped herself from scoffing as the tall man with an expression as handsome and as mean as her own dipped his head to place a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. His eyes were deep brown in colour, wide and upturned, his nose a smooth and strong slope, jaw well defined and strong with a head of thick, neat hair on his head.

He was a man, that was for sure.

“It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Holiness.” he smiled, the upward curve of his lips suddenly reminding her of Jun.

Of the fact that they were to meet that night.

Ara quickly dispelled the thought and gave him a small smile in return.

“I have very little free time as it is and I don't normally waste it on things like this, so I hope you understand my intentions behind agreeing to meet you.” Hunter's deep voice said as he followed Ara around the first show room.

“I understand.” Ara replied airily, stopping and turning at a large picture of a jester. Hunter was slightly taken aback, but nodded nonetheless, assuming the same pose as Ara as she regarded the painting. “It's not as though you could refuse Queen Yifa.”

Hunter glanced over at her, suddenly wondering if that was the only reason she had turned up. Surely not? He was General Lang, the son of General Lang, no woman in their right mind would pass up the opportunity to spend a night with him, never mind go on real dates. He certainly hadn't agreed only because it was Queen Yifa's idea – every man in the palace knew of the icy beauty that was Ara, of how difficult it was to get close to her. He'd taken it upon himself as a kind of challenge.

“Then, are you saying you agreed only because it was Queen Yifa's idea?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Had I not spiked your interest beforehand?”

Ara smirked to herself as she continued on, enjoying how riled up she was making him. Arrogant prick. If this date was just a waste of his time then she'd surely make him wish he never took the Queen up on it.

“I hadn't heard of you until Queen Yifa shared her idea with me a few days ago. I thought you were your father and almost emptied the contents of my stomach onto the floor right then and there.”

“How is it possible you haven't heard of me?” he pressed. “I led our troops when we worked together with Western Pan to help get the guerilla groups out of their southern territories. It was an admirable and difficult feat.”

“I don't recall.” she shrugged. “Moreover, I'm not interested in your job. Unless your job is all you are, then I'm not interested in you.”

“You-!” Hunter started, unsure how to respond to her harsh words yet unable to keep a grin from forming on his lips as he watched her walk on with her head held high.