text: There was a crowd gathered in the small tavern. I observed the man they surrounded from the shadows. He seemed young, no more than 25, with dark hair and dark eyes. He was admittedly good looking and charming. It made sense that he captured the attention and trust of the people around him. “The King is corrupt and selfish. He doesn’t care for you or I, he cares only about his coffers getting filled. And with what? *Our* hard-earned money! And how many more innocent people should be executed by his command before we take action?” the man -- who I later learned was named Alistair -- roared, his voice full of passion and righteous fury. “Down with the King!” cried a lone voice in the audience, which was soon met with similar cries. “Help me, my brothers and sisters. Dethrone the King who doesn’t care for us, choose me as your leader, and I promise you prosperity and freedom!” he said, his voice rising in a crescendo. The crowd cheered. I narrowed my eyes; this brazenness was both commendable and foolish. The King had eyes and ears everywhere, however I knew they were not in this secluded tavern. He had chosen a good location to start this revolution. I watched the man until the assembled group dispersed. I approached him. “If you want to overthrow the King, you will need my help,” I said, quietly. “And why is that?” he asked. “I have contacts in the palace who can help you. Plus, you will need all the support you can get.” He glanced at me skeptically. “Who are you?” he asked, the suspicion evident in his voice. “Just a palace servant,” I said, my face betraying no emotion. “I do need someone on the inside. But why are you offering to betray your master? What do you want in return for helping me?” I smirked slightly. “Simple. I will help you be the King. In return, make me your Queen.” He accepted. It was all going according to plan. The following months passed by in a blur of plotting and scheming. Before long, we were ready to strike. We left our base and headed towards the palace under the cover of the midnight sky. The world was asleep at this hour and we used that to our advantage, passing through the village undetected. As per the plan, I helped the revolutionaries enter the palace through a secret passageway, disguised as servants. I led Alistair to the King’s study, where I knew he would be. At this time of night, he preferred to read alone. He had dismissed his guards, as he preferred solitude when reading. It truly was the perfect time to strike. “I will see you soon, my Queen,” he told me. I smiled. Finally, the tyrannical king would be replaced by someone better. I stood guard outside the door, ready to alert him at a moment’s notice, should anyone pass by. Nobody did. After what felt like an eternity -- although it couldn’t have been more than half an hour -- I heard the King collapse to the ground, and the young rebel’s cry of victory. It was all going according to plan. I entered the room, averting my eyes from the King. The once mighty man was reduced to nothing, just like that. Funny, really, how the monarch fell so soon. The sound of activity in the late King’s study got the attention of guards stationed nearby. The head of the Royal Guard, flanked by his squadron, along with the royal advisor barged into the room, weapons drawn. Upon seeing me, they halted. “What is your Grace doing here?” the royal advisor exclaimed. “Please help me! This man approached me and manipulated me into helping him overthrow the King! He said he would spare me if I complied! Right now his men are attacking the rest of the royal family!” I said, my voice quivering, eyes glistening with unshed tears. Fake tears, but tears nonetheless. Alistair glanced at me, confused. Ah, right. I told him I was a mere palace servant. Not someone who would be addressed as ‘Your Grace’. The guards restrained him. He looked at me, unsure of what was happening. I smiled internally. It was all going according to plan. A guard ran into the room. “Sir! The royal family was attacked, none survi-“ he stopped mid-sentence, eyes falling onto the lifeless form of the King. I fell to my knees, acting shocked and grief-stricken. “No...” I muttered, my voice trembling. “My uncle. My aunt. My cousins! I have no family left! Why? Why did you force me to do this!” I screamed, glaring at Alistair. His eyes widened in shock, and hardened into anger. I betrayed him. He trusted me. He may even have loved me, after all the time we spent together, scheming. Even though it started out as a condition of my help, I knew he wanted me to be his Queen. I pity the fool. I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. It was the royal advisor. He gave me a look of sympathy and understanding. “Your Grace, even though you were once the sixth in line to the throne, since you have no family left, you are now the Queen,” he said. “No. No no no. No!” yelled Alistair. This was not in his plan. He wanted to be king, with his *loyal* second in command, his informant, as his Queen. Oh, I will be the Queen. I already am. “Your Majesty,” interrupted the head of the Royal Guard. “What must we do about this traitor to the Crown?” I looked Alistair in the eye. He looked at me with pure loathing in his eyes. That, and hurt. I smiled ever so slightly, so that only he could see the look of triumph on my face. “Execute him.