This is a joke. That was her only explanation for this shitstorm of a day. She sat in the chair in stunned silence for a few more seconds then abruptly stood.

“Well this has been a lovely trip, My Lord,” the honorific was said with a sarcastic drawl,“ but you’ll have to excuse me.” Immediately she darted to the exit of the office.

“This is real Alexandra.” His voice echoed through the massive office.

She turned the handle, there was no way she was staying in that room. The entire situation screamed danger, who knows what things he could do behind the absurd promise of royalty, she would bet he had done this a million times.

“Wait!” He had intended the command to come out as a sturdy order, but it was more of a desperate plea. “The King’s will. Everything will be explained.” He offered the document with an outstretched hand.

She stepped away from the door. No doubt she’d be stopped if she exited now, she took the document from his hands.

Should I die in the month of December, none of my legitimate children shall inherit the crown, the will read in cursive calligraphy with ink the colour of molten gold. She widened her eyes at the quote. Then squinted them, “if this was real. And that’s a big if. Why am I here? You draw a raffle?”

“Evidence has been uncovered as to your…" Ice blue eyes shifted to the ground, "relation to His Majesty.”

“Daughter?” It was a stupid question, but she needed it to be told to her directly.

Octavius only nodded in the affirmative.

“And how me? I know enough to know only legitimate children can rule. Don’t you have a name for bastards? What was it-”

“Naturally dead,” he offered.

She laughed, a confused laugh with no joy behind it. “How fond. And how exactly have I been declared alive in the eyes of the law?”

“Issues have been raised as to the King’s brother and his," he searched long and hard for the correct word, "suitability to the crown.”

“So go over to the next person.”

His eyes once again shifted from hers. Octavius groaned internally, he bitterly wished he could, the next person in line was none other than himself, but the royal siblings would not be pleased and he would soon meet the same fate as the late king if he tried. Getting rid of the three brats wouldn't work either, no one would dispose of royal children on a regent's command alone.

Her voice knocked him out of his musings. "You can't can you? Someone's stopping you."

He sighed, trying to maintain his patience, he had not expected resistance when he told a peasant they would be crowned queen. “Miss, the details are hardly relevant now. The crown falls to you, you have the privilege of refusing, something most heirs do not."

Alexandra was less than convinced. “I don’t buy it. This isn’t how the law works, this is how desperate people work. You think I’ll save you, save you from something nobody else will, and you’re willing to break every rule in the book for me to.” Suspicion and shock was still racing through her, "say I did accept Octavius. Then what?"

"Your coronation would happen as soon as possible, a week perhaps. You would then rule, deciding on matters concerning the country. Taxes, infrastructure, trade relations, to name a few, along with any other major concern of the country." He explained the duties of a monarch in a clinical, almost bored way. "Or, you can return to the orphanage as a cook, and you will never see anyone associated with the crown again. Of course, if you ever speak up about this experience or try to enter the castle we will renounce your existence."

Alexandra quietly absorbed every word uttered from the advisor's thin lips. The job sounded awfully boring, but working as a cook wasn't much better she'd imagine. All her life she had been seeking to move up, saving what little money she earned to ascend from where she was, and here was the fairytale opportunity. And yet she knew it would be nowhere near a fairytale ending. This would change her life forever, and she guaranteed it wouldn't only be in a good way. But what would she be remembered for if she didn't? A great cook? Rulers were remembered, for better or worse, benevolent or malevolent, she would be remembered.

"When do we start?"

* * *

She exited the office a Queen. Queen Alexandra, she thought, not a bad ring to it. As she exited, surrounded by guards taking her to her suite, though she still wasn't sure they weren't going to throw her in a carriage back to the orphanage, she saw them. Standing in a trio the royal siblings watched her go past, in a position that betrayed their chain of command. 

The oldest, the heir, was at the front. Victor, everyone in the country knew his name, he was the future king after all. He was slender and the tallest of his siblings, herself included she mused. His apparel was understated elegance in its definition. Dressed in a black three piece suite, and a crisp white tie, fitted perfectly of course. A pocket watch's sterling silver chain crossed his chest but no other jewellery was on his person. Jet black hair was neatly smoothed back, revealing pale skin and cheekbones so prominent he almost looked emaciated. Eyes the colour of the night were transfixed on her, with the same look of expectation his younger sister had stared at their future Queen with. 

Speaking of her half-sister, she whispered something in her brother's ear. She stood on her elder brother's right, a few inches shorter than him in four-inch heels. Auburn curls fell to her torso as she redirected her gaze at Alexandra. Unlike her elder brother, she seemed to have a penchant for jewellery, sapphires dripped from her ears and diamonds adorned her neck, matching the ornate beading on her dress. Wide eyes settled on her, with an unsettling anticipation gracing her features. Alexandra remembered little girls in the orphanage fawning over her, Princess Eleanor, a little girl's dream.

She fished for the youngest name, he was often forgotten by citizens. Standing on the left of his brother, he matched the height of his sister in her heels. He was in a tanned leather jacket, expensive no doubt, but monumentally more casual than his siblings. He was the darkest of his siblings, which was not saying much, but he had tanned skin and calloused hands, not nearly calloused enough for a worker, but betrayed an outdoors lifestyle. His hair was messy in a purposeful way, looking youthful rather than dishevelled. His eyes stood out above his siblings, bright green and lively, a mischievous glint in them, concentrated on Alexandra with an amused excitement. Prince Christopher. 

As she passed by the trio she had the feeling she had made either the best or worst decision of her life. Something was coming. It was up to her what she made of it.