Chronicles of Den'dra - Spencer Johnson Page 0,30

looked like she was at least two time the Princess’ girth. The next had the right hair and body. A face that at a distance resembled the Princess, but her eyes were a plain brown. Making note of her as a last resort, Reigns moved on. The next couple were hardly worth the glance. There was another that had similar features but yet again, the eyes were not right either. The princess’ were sort of a purple blue that seemed to dance between the hues at will, a rare color to say the least. There was one with the eyes almost the right color, but her face was pocked by a late and aggressive puberty.

The last one held more promise than all the rest with her dark blue eyes. From a few feet distance her long eyelashes shadowed them enough make them look purple in color. No one but the servants would be that close anyway. She huddled timidly against the far wall so it was unlikely she would encourage any closer acquaintances. The girl could have been Em’risi’s twin if it weren’t for the slightly straighter hair or a couple fingers less of height.

“She will do.” Reigns had seen enough and turned to leave the dungeon.

“My lord, what do we do with the rest?” The jailer asked while nervously dry washing his hands.

“Do what you want. They can rot in those cells for all I care.” Reigns had more important things to think about. Things like how to make a farm girl into a princess in less than the time it would take before the people demanded to see their new queen. Speech would be one thing. Regal manners and mannerisms would also be a must. It wouldn’t do to have her clomp around like she was still on a farm.

At the most, he could put the people off by a couple weeks with the excuse that she was in private grieving. In a way, he was glad he had someone fresh to work with. Em’risi’s attitude would have been troubling to deal with. She had been spoiled by her father and would likely not cooperate with being ordered to do this and that, when and how Reigns thought best. A fresh start with a malleable girl that would do whatever he wanted without question was considerably better.

He had people that could make sure the transformation would be completed on time. The girl would be seen at the head of the official funeral procession and everyone would think her the Princess. A short time later, she would be crowned the Queen and again no one would be the wiser. All this time Reigns would be the one in complete control. The rebels would be irrelevant. The paradox of them fighting in the name of the Queen and at the same time attacking her men would not go unnoticed. If any of the noble houses had been wavering in their loyalty at that point, they would have no choice but to fall into line. A line that Reigns would draw as he saw fit.

Reigns’ next stop was a large room in the castle dedicated to the creation and distribution of propaganda. The power of a subtle phrase was incredible. More often a picture had to illustrate the words in order for the uneducated to understand. The one that Reigns saw first was a realistic drawing of Balinor. Below the picture was a note telling the tale of an innocent group of travelers and their children that the ex-general had slaughtered simply because he wanted their horses. Below the note was a rendering of the massacre and a group of the vilest looking miscreants that had assisted him in the atrocity. Care was taken to paint the man in believable lies. Public opinion was sure to be inflamed against the rebel and his band of thugs.

The artist at the next table was trying to capture the essence of the Princess’ beauty, despite the fact he had never seen her. The woman on the paper was impressive and did indeed begin looking like the Princess once Reigns ordered a few alterations. Below that picture would be a passage from the grieving Princess pictured to her subjects, putting forth her virtues and telling the people that she, more than anyone, could understand the unutterable grief her people suffered over the King’s untimely death. It was as artfully worded as the picture was drawn. The people would feel that their Queen cared for them.

After

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