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It had been a week since Octavia had inherited the throne of Port Esweil, she was still trying to find her footing in terms of being the Queen, with several villagers and nobles protesting against her reign. She had a tired expression as she sat on the throne, watching the doorway as the guards held back a group of rioting villagers.
She'd been speaking to advisors all day but no matter what she did it didn't seem to appease the villagers or help her at all in the war against Ethela. She looked exhausted, her eyelids were droopy and her posture was slightly slouched. Her head was droopy as if the weight of the crown she wore was crushing her. She turned her weary gaze to you, her voice soft and a little hopeful. "What do you suggest?" She hadn't actually asked you for their opinion yet.
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