Sovereign

"Orlish Navy lifts the oil blockade against the Empire of Larissa and the Order Pact in a stunning move of diplomatic policy shift. Could this be the beginning of a possibly neutral relationship between both giants?"

- Redcastle Post

---

"Oh dear, that does sound quite unfavorable."

Amelie's words rang true to Marie, as she presented her 'good news' to her. Well, if reports of further rising extremism and the UOP and the ORP bleeding further votes counted as 'good news'.

"Look at the bright side, Your Majesty. Both the UOP and ORP would still most likely retain 60% of the seats in the Parliament."

"You know that doesn't sound good when 40% would essentially vote for two extremist parties."

She beamed brightly. Marie always had that sometimes irritating, but strangely appealing charm with her. She was always cheerful and positive - even when it seemed deranged.

"Look at the bright side of life and all that, Your Majesty."

Very funny, Marie.

"Regardless, I don't think we can do much further to change this," Marie said as she closed one of the folders, her smile unwavering. "This is just how democracy is, to change that is impossible. The system failed, and this is the result."

"But the extremists are playing us dirty."

"We can't change that, they believe that it's the only way. And let's be honest if you hadn't taken the throne and begun these reforms - they would be correct."

Indeed, she did have a point. Truthfully, Queen Areya was a bit of a clown, a self-righteous clown even. She loved promising rights, freedoms, and aid to men, which unsurprisingly led to nothing.

Except for the votes. Which she made men pay for. In millions of lives. No wonder the message to men was, "Unless we pay in blood, nothing would arrive."

"I see…then what can we do?"

"I'm already working on that. Counter-propaganda efforts are already being hammered by my agency. Though, it's quite difficult at how these anonymous Internet men are twisting our words."

She pulled out her laptop out of nowhere, placed it on a table, and showed Amelie its contents. With a scroll, she unveiled how these men spread their propaganda.

Quick one-word quips, pictures of a stylized black cat that made vulgar jokes, images of powerful aristocrats - even her, slapped into edited images of pigs.

And Amelie especially despaired at - no, hyper-focused at one of those pictures. There it was, her own graceful picture, her lovely face, artistically turned into a bloodthirsty succubus with…an overly suggestive figure that almost made her puke.

Beneath it as well…

"Feeling cute might eat men later."

Oh, bless her heart that almost experienced a mild dose of discontinuance after witnessing such vile artistic buffoonery. How could someone draw her, a regal, pure, and angelic Queen in such a vulgar manner? Heaven forbid, the wanker even drew her as a demon - how absolutely devious!

And so, she immediately reverted from a mildly depressed young regal Queen to a flustered teenage girl, a very angry kind.

"Ew! What the hell is that? Who the hell drew that?! Who the hell-"

Marie, being an old friend of Amelie, knew exactly that she was about to begin a colorful outburst. And so, like the good friend she was, she immediately became her voice of reason.

"I understand how you feel about this-"

"I demand his head! I demand this guy, whoever drew it, and his head! Preferably on an oversized stick!"

"-But you have to calm down."

"I've taken enough humiliation since I took this damned throne, but this is going too far!"

"-And I seriously doubt that you'd execute someone over-"

"But I will absolutely have fun playing with him using my electrical spells. Does he think this is funny? I can show him funny!"

"-And that does in fact technically count as torture-"

"Because I absolutely want to just torture this absolute vile creature that-"

"-And you need to drink tea to calm yourself down."

Upon the mention of the magic word, tea, she immediately stopped her tirade.

"You are indeed correct."

With a huff and a few deep breaths, she flopped back to her chair and took a very unladylike sip (that consumed half of her teacup's content) to calm herself down.

And just like that, she was calm (no she was not).

Marie smiled as she closed her laptop.

"Good?"

She was still flustered, angry, and definitely red. It seemed as if her eyebrows were even twitching when Marie asked her.

"Better than before, yes. I still want that guy groveling on my feet though. Can you find him?"

She sneaked another sip to calm her nerves. Oh, the delight. The bloodthirsty thoughts that would occasionally raid her mind assaulted in full force. A poor rascal would be having an unfavorable night tonight.

"Give me a few hours."

"I'd be waiting."

And before she knew it, Marie dropped a very much half-beat lanky guy in front of her before the day ended. Well, it was afternoon, which meant she still had time for petty retribution.

Amelie, after all, had never been petty on her throne. But with this - she really wanted to be petty.

"Hello."

The sweet smile on her face definitely didn't look deranged. It was sweet and angelic even. Dear, her eyes were even slightly glowing, and a faint halo above her head was floating.

See? Angelic!

"Your Majesty…i-it was a joke. I mean, let's all calm down here, I mean, look at her, she's smiling."

Marie indeed was.

"You're smiling, hey I'm smiling too. See, we can have a very perfect day with funny, lighthearted jokes here-"

She leaned down at him, her 'not deranged' smile unfaltering. Naturally, his body decided to relocate backward in a snap-second as a response. A nervous smile appeared on his face.

"You're telling me and that nice lady..." She definitely wasn't nice, considering how wet and beaten up his clothes were. Indeed, Marie wasn't gentle at capturing him. "Everything about the NRF's ongoing propaganda efforts. Are we in agreement?"

With a gulp, he replied.

"Have mercy, please."

…

The jerkass spilled everything he knew. Turned out, he was just a freelance artist hired by a man from an obscure forum to produce the 'art' (Amelie preferred to refer to such a product as garbage), and he was actually not even connected to the NRF, or if he was, more of a mere deniable asset.

And while Amelie wanted to unleash her retaliatory wrath at the vile vulgar disgusting perverted and absolutely devious…man, she was a benevolent, kind, and nice type of Queen.

So with a heavy dose of reprimand and warnings, he was booted off the Palace. Technically, Amelie could execute him for 'defaming the monarch' as it was law, but she could hardly be bothered.

Albert, who made a pit stop at the Palace to visit Alice, was now barely keeping his mirth as Amelie recounted the events.

"Alright, look. Are you asking for an early grave?"

The glare from Amelie was so icy, that even the emotionally dead Albert nearly flinched (though, he was still laughing inside), as the difficulty of keeping his laugh at bay utterly consumed him.

"Trust me, I'm not. I am very serious, and I won't be laughing."

"Be serious! This is a scandalous, slanderous act against me. Ugh, that rat irks me."

"Whoah, gee, think you need more tea?"

"I've drunk my eight cups of the day already. It won't work."

"Well, that's unfortunate."

Amelie huffed and turned to the window. Her eyes were now once again aimed at that lovely bakery that she would always look at. Craving for sweets and cake could be said to be the nature of the two royal sisters.

And as such, she desperately imagined a nice cake to purge the picture out of her mind. Indeed, she was beyond traumatized. She could not believe that people thought of her in such a way.

Dammit, I really want his head on a pointy stick!

"Well, anyhow, I believe you found valuable insights from said 'ruffian'?"

And indeed, Amelie did refer to him as a ruffian. It could be said that she hates him more than even Heindhöff. Heindhöff was evil, but he wasn't that disgusting.

"All I found out was that young men in these forums loved to spread extremely vulgar jokes to defame us. And me."

Albert took a seat in front of her, nodding at her accurate information. Mainly because, he was also at these same forums, lurking as political extremists of all kinds somehow collectively united under the NRF's banner to fart in the Palace's general direction.

"That's essentially what their propaganda is. It's very popular with bitter young men. Nothing helps to rile things up further than pointing at the ones in charge and blaming everything on them. Then making fun of them."

She turned around in her seat, an eyebrow raised.

"So they're blaming me?"

"Not just you. The Prime Minister, the Cabinet, the Parliament, every damned noble. Hell, they're calling our good friend Walter a mere puppy of yours."

Amelie fell silent once more. What a bunch of wankers! Out here, working herself to her bone, to fix the Kingdom, that was what she was doing. And this was how they would repay her?

Day by day, each and every effort of hers bore no fruit. Nothing but hatred and danger was handed to her as a payment.

Yet, somehow, she could not bring herself to hate them in return. Deny it as much as she would like, but she knew very well why. She had failed them. They had failed them. Even to this day, men were still suffering en masse from their collapsing economy and lack of reforms.

Indeed, such hate was justified. Even so, Amelie felt it was unfair. And indeed it was! The ire and hatred directed at her by these young men when all she had given her was her aid and care (which was practically useless anyway as it was ineffective) had always left a bitter taste on her tongue.

She understood why, but it still made her bitter. Perhaps, resentful even. After all, how long could someone stomach the act of aiding someone who repulsed and hated her?

Oh, dear. Now she lowered her head. She was now depressed and stuff.

"Hey…Albert, I have a question to ask."

"Shoot."

"Do you think it is still possible for me to turn it all around? To fix all of this? To stop this hate and division?"

"Yes, I believe in you."

She didn't expect that answer. Her eyes locked at his for many moments, completely surprised. She remembered that day with William when he told her that he applauded her efforts.

Her entire reign had been one of a struggle to keep her nation together, but more importantly - to win men's trust back. To hear such words from her brother, one of these men…

"Amelie, I saw the worst nightmare of all kinds. From the war, and all the deaths and destruction. The failures of humanity. The most bitter battles that saw countless men dead. And that…bloody evacuation. I haven't told you about it, but even there, in that desolate city, in that city where men were abandoned - I personally talked to a man who looked up at you."

Someone…someone did?

"I don't know if that man is still alive. But I just wanted you to know, you may look at all this hate directed at you…but don't forget how your actions made someone half a world away believe in you."

Whatever resentment and doubt that was in her mind and heart, somehow, it began to thaw. Perhaps…she was not a failure yet. Perhaps, she could still fulfill her promise on that faithful day.

To be a benevolent Sovereign.