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The Wingless Queen. Part 1 of 3. Tell me what you think so far! *update again. Rewrote Chapter 2!*

Posted by on Dec. 7, 2012 at 11:54 PM
  • 40 Replies
3 moms liked this

The Wingless Queen


Prologue


It was a cold winter day. Snow fell heavily in the great city of Broken Peak. High up on the mountain top, in the palace, the queen Loura labored in her bed. Her husband, the prince-reagent Kolvar paced outside the door, flinching as his beloved wife screamed in pain. She had been in labor for nearly a day. He stopped pacing and stared anxiously at the door with bright blue eyes after the screaming stopped, and a tiny high-pitched cry was heard. 

After several minutes, the midwife stepped through the door, holding a bundle of brightly colored fabrics, the look on her face was solemn. 

“My lord, you have a daughter.” She said, handing the bundled infant over to Kolvar. 

“What of my wife?” He asked, nervous, taking the bundle.

“She has passed into the realm of the gods. I’m so sorry, my lord.”

Kolvar held the child close to him and pulled the cloth back, revealing a beautiful girl with pure white hair and skin so pale it was nearly translucent. She stirred and opened her eyes, which matched Kolvar’s. He bit back tears. His beloved Loura gave her life to give him this daughter. 

“Your name is Tiria. First born child of the house Ancalime, heir to the throne, and the sentinel of spirit.” He said softly, stroking the infant’s cheek. He kissed her forehead and whispered “You are destined for greatness, my dear child.”









Chapter 1


“I want to partake in the hunt, father.” Tiria said rather bluntly while unbraiding her hair in front the mirror in her bedroom. “I’m 16 now, old enough to prove myself and find a worthy mate.” 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Tiria. The hunt is very dangerous.” Kolvar replied, leaning against the doorway. 

“Father, you trained me, and you’re the best warrior in all of Alamar! Besides, it will be time for me to take the throne soon, and I will need a prince-reagent.” 

Kolvar sighed, she was stubborn like her mother. “The answer is no, Tiria. We can find you a mate without you partaking in the hunt.”

“Father! I can do this! I know I can!”

“I said no! Now drop this silly notion at once, and get yourself ready for the ball.”

Tiria huffed and turned back towards the mirror. She untied the leather thong that had kept her hair tied back and admired her reflection. Her long, wavy white locks cascaded over her shoulders, and her bright blue eyes all but glowed under her thick eyelashes. She was small, for an Alamarian, rising to just under five and a half feet tall, but this only added to her rare beauty. She was thin, but not sickly so, and her legs were long and slender. Her cheekbones were pronounced, and her jawline was strong, but still very feminine. 

She stood, and with the incredible grace possessed by all of her race, she glided over to the enormous in-floor bathtub that was filled with hot water. She freed herself from the confines of her light blue nightgown, and draped it over the privacy screen. Tiria placed her hands on the side of the tub and gently stepped in. Letting out a sigh as she lowered her body into the soothing water, drawn from the mineral spring that ran under the city. It’s healing power was unmatched. 

Tiria pinched her nose between her thumb and forefinger, took a deep breath, and dunked her head beneath the water. She stayed there for several seconds before resurfacing with a sharp intake of breath. She half swam over to a silver tap, grabbed a wash sponge, and lifted the handle of the tap. Creamy iridescent soap flowed from the tap onto the sponge. 

She squeezed and rubbed the sponge until she got a good lather, and began washing her alabaster skin. She worked in a circular motion, starting with her left shoulder, and worked her way across her chest, over her small but womanly breasts, down her flat stomach, until she finally reached her slender toes. She took a quick glance around, saw that no one was around, and with a large smile, pinched her nose again and threw herself backwards into the water. She swam and swirled around under the water until she was sure all the soap had been rinsed off, then resurfaced. She returned to the same tap, and poured more soap into her hand, which she then used to wash her hair. While massaging her scalp, she moseyed over to the large indoor waterfall. She stopped and looked at the statue before her. It was an artists rendition of the Great Mother, the goddess of all things the Alamarians, and all races of Greerven, held dear. Tiria sighed quietly and walked under the water flowing from the water jug the statue held. She ran her long slender fingers through her hair, making sure to rinse out every trace of soap. 

She stepped out of the bath and dried herself off with a soft towel, then wrapped her hair up in the towel, and covered herself with a colorful silk robe. She wandered back into her bedroom and saw a large, short gift box had been left on her bed. Raising an eyebrow, she walked over to the bed and opened the box. Resting inside was the most beautiful gown Tiria had ever laid eyes on. It was made of a dark green sheer fabric, with intricate gold thread about the collar. Tiria’s eyes went wide and she lifted the gown out of the box. It was floor length with a split skirt, and a white sheer underdress. It had long sleeves that split at the elbow and nearly reached the floor, with the same gold thread around the hem. She looked back inside the box and saw a jeweled belt of emeralds and diamonds, and a pair of exquisite white lambskin slippers. 

Tiria beamed as she tossed the gown onto the bed and quickly brushed her hair and teeth. She dusted her face with a thin layer of powder, and her cheeks with a pale pink blush, coated her eyelashes with black mascara, and painting her lips with red lip stain, before dressing herself in the gown. she called in her handmaiden to help do her hair. 

Once finished, she gazed at herself in the mirror. She was simply stunning. Her handmaiden was an artist with hair, in her own right. She had braided two strands from the front of Tiria’s hair on either side, then pulled them back and combined them in a neat bun at the back of her head, which was held in place by a white leather thong decorated with emeralds. White feather and diamond earrings dangled from either ear. 

“You look like a queen m’lady.” The handmaiden said cheerfully. She was a young human woman named Amila. She was quite cute, like a tiny harvest mouse, with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. She was awkward, but kindly, and she did her job well. Tiria always made sure she was personally paid well, and her family was well taken care of. 

“I feel like a bitch being groomed for a dog show. Father no doubt already has some filthy rich but boring young magician or diplomat from one of the noble houses lined up for me.” Tiria said harshly.

“With all due respect, m’lady, your father loves you dearly and only wants what is best for you.”

“He only wants what he thinks is best for me. I refuse to allow myself to be married off to the highest bidder who only wants me for my inheritance.”

“You have a strong will, miss. That is a trait that can make a queen, or break one. Do not let your pride blind you to what is best for all of us, not just you.”

Tiria stiffened for a moment, then relaxed. “You have a point, Amila.” She sighed, then chuckled. “I’ll try my best to behave tonight.”

There was a sharp knock on the door. 

“Tiria, are you ready? The guests are arriving, and the ball will be beginning shortly.” Kolvar’s voice was slightly muffled by the heavy wooden door.

“I will be down in a few minutes, father.” 

Tiria slipped on the new slippers and found them quite comfortable. She stood, smoothed out the creases in her gown, and bedecked her throat and fingers with gold and diamonds before mouthing a thank you to her handmaiden and making her way down to the ballroom.

The ballroom was huge and slightly dizzying. It had a great vaulted ceiling, and statues representing the first five sentinels lines each wall, two on either side and the Alamarian sentinel, the sentinel of spirit, stood at the very back of the room, just behind the thrones. Kolvar was sitting in his throne, while the one next to him sat empty. The floors were white marble with gold striations. 

Tiria stood on the balcony, overlooking it all. People of all the races conversed together while enjoying fine Alamarian wine and gourmet hors d’oeuvres that were brought to them by servants dressed in fine black tuxedoes. The Wolfkin, with their gold eyes and tanned skin, had a tribal way of life, living in various packs, led by an alpha male and his mate. Their nobles dressed in the finest animal hides, and decorated themselves with fine ivory and brightly colored beads. They all wore feathers in their hair, the color determined their rank within their pack. Those with red feathers were the alphas, those with white and brown striped were betas, and those with black feathers were the omegas, the lowest rank. The Wolfkin sentinel was fire.

The Diakin, with a druidic way of life, all had black eyes. The males had large antlers that grew up from the top of their head, and had tan skin. They tended to be quite brutish and fight mongering during their mating season. Thankfully, that time had passed a few months ago. The females were light skinned, and were usually quite shy, but known for their kindness and hospitality. Most of the female Diakin nobles present were heavily pregnant. The Diakin sentinel was earth.

The Flightkin, with a close-knit way of life, were all equals. The ones who were granted the privilege of attending balls were chosen by popular vote. Their legs were like that of a bird’s. Their arms doubled as wings, and their hands grew from the wrist joint of their wings. They were very private, but kindly people, though they could be frightening to look at for the first time. The Flightkin sentinel was air.

Then there were the Alamarians. Descended from the ancient dragons who gave them the gift of life. All Alamarians can heal wounds, cure sickness, and make plants grow. They could even weave a beautiful sheer cloth with magic, so their clothing was unmatched in beauty and monetary value. Alamarians came in all colors. Red, blue, green, black, gold, and even multiple colors in some cases. The Alamarian sentinel was spirit.

All sentinels were pure white, like Tiria and her mother before her. 

Tiria slowly made her way down the grand staircase. A Wolfkin noble approached her and held out his hand. She had met him before. He was an alpha named Creekrunner who lost his mate and son during childbirth.

“Good evening, m’lady. You look as beautiful as ever.” He spoke kindly, there was a hint of ardor in his voice.

Everyone knew he was looking for a new mate, but there was rumor the grief of losing his mate and child had driven him mad. Tiria was nervous about him, but graciously accepted his hand and stepped down onto the smooth marble floor. 

“You are very kind, Creekrunner. I hope things are going well for you?” Tiria responded with a kind, if not a little forced, smile. 

“The death of my mate and son still weighs heavily on my mind, but I am doing much better now, thank you. Would you like a drink?”

“Oh, yes, thank you.” With that, the alpha walked off to grab their drinks. 

“Tiria, how nice it is to see you again!” A peppy female voice rang out. Tiria turned to see a young Diakin woman walking a bit uncomfortably towards her.

“Dela, my gosh, you look like you’re about to pop!”

“Subtlety was never your forte, but yes. I am due any day now.”

“You’re not thinking of traveling home in that condition, are you?”

Dela laughed “No. I have a second home here in Broken Peak that I will be staying at until the baby is born. Speaking of which, I have something to ask of you.” Tiria raised an eyebrow, and Dela continued. “As you probably know, my husband passed away from a mysterious illness not long ago. So I have no one here to assist me. I was wondering if you could midwife the birth of my child?”

Tiria nearly gawked at her friend. “Me?”

“I trust no one else’s skill with medicine as much as you.”

“Of course I will Dela.”

“Thank you so much, my friend.” Dela bowed her head slightly. “Oh, here comes Creekrunner.”

Ah, Dela, it’s so good to see you.” A pained look flashed over his face when her saw her enormous belly, but was gone before anyone noticed. He handed one of the chalices over to Tiria, then turned to Dela. “Can I speak with her alone, please?” 

“Of course.” She said with a slight smile. She bowed her head to Tiria and wandered off. 

Creekrunner turned back to Tiria. “I want to tell you that I have had my eyes on you for a long time.” Tiria looked at him, stunned. “Your beauty is unmatched, and when I am around you, the pain I feel fades away. I know there are rumors of my madness, but I assure you that they are untrue.” 

“I see you have already broken the news to my daughter.” Kolvar said, joining the group. He saw Tiria’s shocked expression. “Tiria, Creekrunner and I have spoken in length about this, and I agree that it would be a good match.”

“So this is all about politics to you?”

“Partly, yes. A marriage between you two would bring our races closer together. However, I do not ignore your happiness. I am well aware of the rumors, but I can tell you they are rumors only. Creekrunner could make you very happy.”

Tiria glared at her father. “You’ve already arranged it. I have no real choice in this, now do I?”

“Tiria, I...” Tiria stormed off before Kolvar could finish.

She stormed out of the palace and into the gardens while blinking back tears. Now she knew the real reason why her father had forbidden her to partake in the hunt. 

“Damn my father to the abyss; and damn that crazy Wolfkin too!” She shouted, sitting down heavily on a stone bench. She inhaled a shaky breath, put her head in her hands and started crying. All she’d ever wanted was to choose her own mate, and now that choice had been made for her. She sniffed and looked up at the moonflowers before her. It was winter, and the flowers had long since died off until spring. Tiria held out her hand, and with a touch of magic, new moonflowers grew from the vines. She was so focused on her magic, that she startled when a shadow passed over her. 

“You are very gifted.” Creekrunner said. 

“If you’re only here to compliment me, save your breath. You’ll have plenty of time for that during our marriage.”

Creekrunner stiffened momentarily “Tiria, I know this isn’t what you wanted, but know that I don’t just want you for your inheritance.” He put his hand on her cheek and turned her face towards him. “Oh, my dear, don’t cry. I promise you will be happy with me.” 

by on Dec. 7, 2012 at 11:54 PM
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Ashley_Carlson
by on Dec. 7, 2012 at 11:54 PM

Chapter 2


Tiria and the Wolfkin alpha were married on a warm spring day in front of what seemed like every living soul in Greerven. They had courted for a while, at Tiria’s request, and she found that she actually liked the man. After the wedding, they were crowned on a large balcony overlooking the city, as queen and prince reagent of Alamar. The cheers from the citizens gathered below were deafening.

Tiria conversed with her friend Dela, who was there with her infant son, Dema. The birth had been so fast and easy, that by the time Tiria got there, Dela was already peacefully nursing her son. This was the subject of many a joke between them. Tiria placed a hand on her still flat belly and remembered what had happened to her mother. She hoped the birth of her child would be as easy as Dela’s.  

Dela glanced down at Tiria’s protective hand, and smiled. “You will be fine, dear. Don’t fret.” 

“I can’t help but be a little afraid. There has never been a mating between an Alamarian and a Wolfkin that resulted in a pregnancy that I know of. Alamarian pregnancies are six months long, but Wolfkin pregnancies are half that long. So, how long do I have before I give birth?”

“I’m going to take a shot in the dark and say about halfway between the two. So, four and a half months?”

Tiria groaned and rolled her eyes. “I’m already two months along.”

“You’re belly is showing, but still small. You probably still have plenty of time to get ready for your little one. Do you know the gender?”

“My intuition tells me it’s a boy. We’ve decided to name him Taiomah.” 

“Oh, I love it! What a good strong name.”

Tiria suddenly went pale. “I’m not feeling well all of a sudden. I need to rest.”

“You let me know if you need any help, alright?”

Tiria could only manage a nod, and Dela helped her back to her room and into her bed. After she left, Tiria rolled over and moaned. The pressure in her belly was becoming painful “Creek, where are you?” A stab of pain shot through her. “CREEKRUNNER!” She screamed. 

Her husband burst into the room and blanched when he saw his mate curled up in bed, crying in pain. “Tiria, what’s wrong?”

“It hurts. There’s something wrong.” Tiria replied through choked sobs. 

“We need a healer up here!” He shouted to a servant, who scurried off. “Hang on, sweetheart. You’re going to be ok.” He cradled her in his arms. Another stab of pain hit her and she screamed, squeezing his arm with a white knuckle grip.  “Hurry up!” He called out, beginning to cry himself. It was almost like history was repeating itself.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the healer arrived. She examined Tiria for several minutes before shaking her head and letting out a sigh. 

“The baby is fine, but the queen’s body was not designed to cope with a fast growing Wolfkin child. I can give her things to alleviate the pain, but her body may be rendered too weak by the pregnancy to survive birth. I’m sorry.”

Creekrunner leaned back against the wall and slowly slid to the floor. “Gods, what have I done to her?”

“This is not your fault. Tiria is strong and stubborn. I doubt she will allow herself to be taken down by a mere babe.” Creekrunner couldn’t help but crack a smile at the healer’s comment. He stood up. “Go to her. She needs you.”

He walked over to Tiria and sat on the side of the bed. “You’re going to be ok, sweetheart.”  His voice cracked. 

Tiria looked at him, eyes misted with tears. “Creek, I’m so sorry you have to go through this again.”

“No, don’t say that. You’re going to be ok.” He squeezed his eyes shut, fighting back tears. “You have to be ok.” He whispered hoarsely.

Tiria stroked his cheek. “If you have to choose, save Taiomah.” 

“I won’t have to choose!” He finally lost his battle against the tears. “I can’t...” He trailed off. He suddenly perked up. “Of course!”

“What?” 

“Our son has Alamarian blood in him!”

“Well, duh.”

“That means he can hear us while still in the womb. Tiria, can Alamarian babies use their magic before they are born?”

“I don’t know. What are you thinking?”

“I want to try something.” Creekrunner placed his hands on his mate’s belly. “Taiomah, can you hear me?” He spoke aloud. The baby turned towards the sound of his voice and pressed a hand against his. Creekrunner was hit with a wave of fear and pain. “It’s ok, I know you’re scared, but I need you to do something for me. For your mother.” 

The child seemed to understand and Tiria felt a warm and pleasing hum of energy in her belly. She began to feel reinvigorated, and her form became plumper. she finally had that mother’s glow. Soon, the hum faded, and Tiria looked at her husband with newly bright eyes. Creekrunner helped her to her feet while the healer gawked at the two of them.

“Your son is very powerful indeed! I have never seen such a thing in all my days!” She sputtered. 

Tiria chuckled and rubbed her slightly rounder belly. “Dear, this dress is feeling a bit tight. Mind helping me change into something a bit more comfortable?” She said with a smile. 

The healer blushed and quickly exited the room. Creekrunner smiled and slowly closed the door. He looked at his wife and felt the heat rising in his face. With her pink and pale yellow dress, that was pulled in just under her swollen breasts and accentuated her pregnant belly, she looked like a goddess. 

She walked over to him and backed him up against the wall. Her hands glided up under his tunic and explored his stomach, slightly massaging the muscles as she made her way around to his chest. He lifted his arms as she removed his tunic, then lowered them and tangled his fingers in her hair, planting a passionate kiss on her plump lips. He took a sharp intake of breathe as he felt her hands playfully wriggle their way down his breeches. Suddenly, she withdrew. He opened his eyes and saw her backing away, towards her plush bed, with a come hither look on her nearly glowing face. He smiled and followed her.

The child was content with the true love his parents shared, and quietly sang to himself. 

 

Deep under the city, the fire sentinel stood at the edge of a large grotto. He gazed into the deep blue water, which seemed to descend into eternity, and sighed. He was an old man, his hair was white, like all sentinels, but was thinned and roughened with age. His skin was darkly tanned from many years of running and hunting with his pack under the bright sun. His eyes were dark with wisdom, and his shoulders slumped with the burden he was about to pass on to a new sentinel. He looked up at the enormous glowing moonstone that kept the darkness at bay high above his head. Mother, I ask you to lend me strength for what I am about to do. He prayed. He then sighed and sat at the edge of the pool to meditate until the time came.



The next morning, Tiria awoke to find her husband gone, probably off to find some breakfast. She winced at the dull ache in her back, and awkwardly climbed out of bed. She stood before the mirror and rubbed her naked belly, which now looked nearly full term. She winced again and doubled over slightly as another dull cramp struck her. When the pain abated, she straightened and wandered into the bathroom. She lowered herself into the large bath and let the warm water relax her aching muscles. 

She sat up and moaned as another pain, stronger than the ones before gripped her belly. The pressure deep in her pelvis was growing more intense, and she parted her legs slightly. She turned her head after hearing someone enter her room. 

“Creek?” She asked in a pained voice.

“It’s me.” He replied, entering the bathroom. “What’s wrong, dear?”

“It’s time.” Tiria moaned as another contraction hit her. They were coming faster and stronger now. She felt a popping sensation and knew her water had broken. 


Down in the grotto, the old sentinel gripped his chest and grimaced. He stood and removed his cloths. He looked up and closed his eyes.


Tiria screamed with the intensity of the next contraction. 

“Creek,” she panted “I can’t, it’s too much.”

“Just keep breathing. You can do this. You’re almost there.” Creekrunner looked up at her from between her legs. He could hardly bear seeing her in so much pain. 

Tiria felt the next contraction building, as well as a strong urge to push, and bore down. She furrowed her brow and moaned with the effort. When it passed, she panted, desperate to catch her breath. 

The sentinel doubled over and groaned in pain. His power was fading, and he was quickly dying. 


“Creek!” She screamed.

“You’re almost there, I can see the head.” His eyes went wide. “Tiria, his...his hair is white!” 

Tiria glanced down at him and had barely registered his words when another contraction began to build. She took a deep breath and bore down once more. 

“Creek, I’m going to tear!” She screamed.

“C’mon, the head is nearly out. Just one last push and he’ll be here.” 


The sentinel’s body jerked as the last of his power left him. He rolled his head back and closed his eyes as he fell forward. His body vanished the moment it hit the water. The great moonstone glowed slightly brighter.


“He’s here! Our son is here!” Creekrunner announced joyously, lifting the tiny babe from the water. The moment he felt the cold air, the child began to cry. Creekrunner quickly handed their child over to Tiria, who began to soothe him.

“Welcome this life, Taiomah. First born of the queen of Alamar, sentinel of fire, and heir to the throne. You are destined for greatness, my child.” She spoke softly, stroking her son’s cheek. Creekrunner looked at them both with tears in his eyes. 

Taiomah’s eyes began to slowly open. He squinted at the brightness of this new world and looked around. He heard a sweet voice speaking to him, and turned towards the sound. His eyes gradually focused on the woman holding him, and he knew that she was his mother. He realized he felt hungry, and opened his mouth, letting out a small mew. His mother repositioned him so he could reach her breast. He latched on and began to suckle contentedly. 

“He’s so beautiful.” Tiria said softly.

“He looks just like you.” 

Tiria chuckled slightly and removed her breast from the now sleeping child’s mouth. With her husband’s help, she stepped out of the bath. Creekrunner covered her with her robe and guided her back to the room. Tiria set her son down in the cradle. She carefully swaddled him, and stroked his cheek for a moment before the full extent of her exhaustion washed over her. She wandered over to the bed and buried herself under the soft blankets. Her husband joined her and they both slept peacefully together.

mamabear0791
by Member on Dec. 8, 2012 at 4:01 PM
1 mom liked this

Omygoodness! I'm hooked! I write myself but nothing as imaginative and fantastical as this. You paint a picture with words, and are doing an amazing job...thank you for posting it :)

Ashley_Carlson
by on Dec. 8, 2012 at 5:45 PM
1 mom liked this

Thanks! I'm writing a series of three novels. This is a small part of Part 1.

Quoting mamabear0791:

Omygoodness! I'm hooked! I write myself but nothing as imaginative and fantastical as this. You paint a picture with words, and are doing an amazing job...thank you for posting it :)


Ashley_Carlson
by on Dec. 8, 2012 at 7:03 PM

Chapter 3


She was running through the dark trees, her breath coming in choked sobs. The branches and thorny underbrush tore at her clothing and cut deep into her pale flesh. Hot tears of pain and terror streamed from her dark eyes. She could feel sharp rotten teeth nipping at her heels, and could hear the sickly wet snarls of the unknown abominations chasing her. 

The ground suddenly fell out from under her, and she tumbled down the steep rocky embankment, skinning her hands and tearing her nails as she desperately tried to stop the fall. She hit the ground with a painful grunt, and tried to get up. She took a single step and pain seared through her as she fell. She reached down, vision blurring, and felt the bone sticking out from her leg. Hot, sickly sweet breath warmed the back of her neck and she froze. A taloned paw gripped her shoulder and threw her onto her back. She tried to scream at the sight before her, but no sound could escape her tight throat. 

It was skeletal, and covered in black ooze that dripped from it’s rotten yellow fangs and large antlers. It had the body of a deer, the head of a wolf, and the feet of some type of bird of prey. 

“What...What are you?” She finally asked, terrified beyond measure. It tilted it’s head and examined her with the white eyes of a corpse. 

“Nothing,” It replied. A wet chuckle bubbled from it’s mouth. “And you, sweet fleshy deer, will become....nothing.” It lowered it’s head and tore into the poor girl’s belly.

“Diakin at the palace gate!” A guard yelled. 

“Open the gate!” Another guard shouted.

Tiria stood in the courtyard, wringing her hands nervously. She had received word of her friend’s impending arrival just early that morning. Dela slowly walked in on her horse, her shoulders slumped and her head hung low. Her face was hidden by the deep hood of her green cloak.

“Dela, what is wrong?” Tiria asked, deeply concerned. 

“Tiria, my old friend.” Dela’s voice cracked. “I need your help.” She pulled back her hood slightly, revealing her face. Her skin was deathly pale, and her eyes and cheeks were sunken in. She looked like the dead.

Ashley_Carlson
by on Dec. 8, 2012 at 7:04 PM

This is the last bit I will be submitting here. The rest can be found on my DeviantArt account as I complete it.

Ashley_Carlson
by on Dec. 8, 2012 at 7:29 PM

Bump

Ashley_Carlson
by on Dec. 8, 2012 at 10:11 PM

Bump

HouseMa
by on Dec. 8, 2012 at 10:26 PM

If he was a Prince his wife would not be a Queen.  It's also spelled Regent. 

Prince Regents also do not rule as monarchy.  They usually reign while the 'regular' monarch can not, either due to illness or incapacity.

Ashley_Carlson
by on Dec. 8, 2012 at 10:30 PM

When a king marries a woman, she becomes a queen. If a queen marries a man, she becomes a prince-regent. In this world, Alamar is a matriarchy. A son will only inherit the throne if he is the only child when both his parents die. A princess becomes eligible to inherit the throne at 16 years old, but ONLY if she marries. Is she doesn't marry, she assumes the throne automatically at age 21.

Quoting HouseMa:

If he was a prince his wife would not be a Queen.  It's also spelled Regent. 



HouseMa
by on Dec. 8, 2012 at 10:34 PM

But your character is NOT a King...he is a Prince. A woman can not become a Prince Regent...that is solely a man's title.

If you wanted people to tell you what you wanted to hear instead of their own opinions, that is what you should have posted.

Matriarchy means that females run positions of government, politics, queens and so on.   You need to look up your terms BEFORE writing a story.


Quoting Ashley_Carlson:

When a king marries a woman, she becomes a queen. If a queen marries a man, she becomes a prince-regent. In this world, Alamar is a matriarchy. A son will only inherit the throne if he is the only child when both his parents die. A princess becomes eligible to inherit the throne at 16 years old, but ONLY if she marries. Is she doesn't marry, she assumes the throne automatically at age 21.

Quoting HouseMa:

If he was a prince his wife would not be a Queen.  It's also spelled Regent. 




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