Of Brides Of Queens

She that inspires
She they desire
Should only shimmer
Like a star
Without its power
Lest starlight steals
All they are
To build her tower.

For the last week at dusk, fifteen pawns who were princes have clawed from their midnight chambers to await my declaration of purpose. A queen should have purpose, I am told. Because kings mostly do. Except this queen just wants her copper crown to stop slipping.

The truth is that discovering my purpose feels unimportant, even though I am faced with powerful kings who clamor and war and threaten me at every vulnerable turn.
And if I expected guidance from a certain seeing king? Well… I shall not dwell on loveless kings lest I enter another rage.

Forget purpose. What I must do is protect myself from kings, in heart, mind, and body. I must protect monsters, old and new, who lurk inside my walls.

A queen must learn to war.

Yet if pawns cannot teach her, who else remains? The immortal answer swims beyond a tangle of obsession, vice, and unrequited love. And if reaching that slippery answer is even possible, I cannot be certain of my ancientness to fathom it when the time comes.