A queen is not born, she is made. That was something important Father made me understand as soon as he turned me into Asgard's princess, and heir of his throne.
His classes on diplomacy and politics were the most fun part of the week. —A threat is coming through the Bifrost, what do you do? —
Sitting on the throne, with my legs under my body and leaning onto the armrest eating some bread, it only took me a minute to think of the most basic plan I could have in such a situation.
—Send most warriors to their places, protecting the bridges, the city, the castle. Have some protecting the vault. —I shrugged, —Take at least twenty warriors and evacuate the city with their help. Move everyone to the Hidden Stronghold. I leave an illusion of me to confuse the attacker, and after evacuating, I go back and fight. —
He put his hand out, so I threw a piece of bread at him. He took a bite and pointed at me, —What if you are losing? —
—Well, uh, cry? What else am I supposed to do? —
We both laughed at this. He brushed the hypothetical scenario off, satisfied with my answer, and started pacing in front of me, thinking of another one. With a spin, he shapeshifted into the average female citizen.
—Alright, let's go with... —Father cleared her throat, preparing for another performance, —Your Majesty! The crops are dying- We need a better harvest to feed the populace! —
That one was easy. —A spell will be enough. —
But Father stopped her act suddenly and looked over at me, in doubt. Her eyes moved to the floor, thinking too much about an answer that should have been obvious.
—There are spells for weather, and for harvest itself. —
She nodded at my explanation, —Yes, I'm aware, the thing is... I don't think asgardians would like the usage of that kind of witchcraft. —
—It would be the best option. —I frowned, not understanding why she was not sure of my answer, —If they accept a witch as their queen, they should accept her magic as a solution. —
—You're right, you're right. —
But there was still doubt on her face, as she walked to the throne and sat on the armrest next to me. She crossed her arms, and looked up to the ceiling, observing the family portraits on top of us. She sighed.
I had to ask, —Would they accept me as their queen? —
It was like my question snapped her back to reality. —Of course. —she glanced at me, smiling, —Even if they didn't, you will be a great queen, and that's what matters. —
But there was another question in my mind.
—What if I also become queen of Hell? —
Father hesitated for a second, but she never dropped her grin. —It would be an interesting case, definitely. —she nodded, and made some hand gestures to exaggerate my title, —Star Lokidottir, Queen of Asgard and Hell. No one has held that title before. —
I looked at her, confused. —Don't you hate Hell? —
—No-—she replied in disbelief, —I don't hate it. It's just another kingdom like Asgard or, let's say, Vanaheim. —she shrugged. Then, she scoffed, knowing what was causing my confusion, —I don't like Sabrina, sure, but she's only one demon. —
She shapeshifted back into his usual form, brushing some of my hair back.
—You would be a great ruler, no matter the kingdom. —