Prince Gladrell, the man I was supposed to marry and now right hand to the Usurper Queen, stands aghast on top of the stage. The moment he saw my face, his eyes became as wide as plates and the pink color of his skin turned into a sickly white. For a man supposed to be the most eligible bachelor in the whole realm, he doesn’t look so hot right now.

“Hello, Gladrell,” I whisper at him as I walk up the stairs, a smile creeping up to my lips. He stands there, just looking at me with his jaw hanging open, and I can almost smell the aura of fear around him.

“Snow...” He finally manages to breathe out, taking one step away from me. “What — what are you doing here? This is madness!”

“Madness? No — this is just a recockning,” I tell him, and he recoils from my words, shrinking into a weak version of the man he always pretended to be. With one satisfied smile, I finally walk toward the edge of the stage and tie my hair behind my head, smiling at the crowd down below.

“It’s the Princess!” Someone shouts excitedly, pointing his finger at me, and an excited frenzy starts taking over the whole crowd. “The princess!” I keep on smiling as everyone starts clapping, shouting things I can’t quite comprehend. Women are waving their handkerchiefs at me, and even the men seem to have a relieved expression on their face. Goes to show how much they’re enjoying my stepmother’s short reign.

“Here, the people want to hear you,” William tells me, pushing the microphone into my hands. By now, every single bodyguard, police officer, or soldier surrounding the stage has lowered his gun — they might have mistrusted William, but no one but the Queen’s men would dare point a gun at me. And even they know that they’re surrounded by people loyal to me and my father.

“People of St. Carlta,” I finally say into the microphone, the hair on the back of my neck standing up as I hear the sound of my voice echoing throughout the main square. “My father would be heartbroken to see what our country has turned into. Have we really gave up on democracy and bent the knee this easily? These past weeks, I’ve been working on a plan to restore democracy, and it has sickened me to find out how much all of you were manipulated. The Queen and the Prince have plotted to ruin this country, and I have all the proof you need.”

“FUCK THE QUEEN!” Someone shouts, and a lot of angry voices start making themselves heard. The officers close to the stage have started taking a few steps back, afraid they’ll be the first to suffer the people’s wrath.

“Can you hear them?” I ask Gladrell, lowering the mic. “Can you feel how much they despise you?”

“You’re mad! You don’t know what you’re doing!” Gladrell insists, and there’s murder in his eyes. If I were alone with him right now, there’s no doubt in my mind that he’d try and wrap his fingers around my neck. Unfortunately for him, I’d drop him fast the moment he tried to do something like that — after all, living under the same roof as seven forces of nature allowed me to learn a few things. Aside from learning on how to deal with seven cocks at the same time, that is.

“I might be standing here,” I continue, putting the mic back in front of my mouth and returning my gaze toward the crowd. “But I’m not the solution to the mess we’re in. Only the people can throw off the yoke of tyranny! Prince Gladrell and Queen Moira need to be deposed!”

At that, they don’t even allow me to continue. The crowd grows so hysteric, shouting and whistling, that I can barely hear my own thoughts. They came for the execution, but they’re staying for the revolution.

“Get the fuck outta here!” Gladrell says all out of a sudden, closing the distance between me and him and snagging the mic out of my hands. Moving away to the opposite corner of the stage, he then tries to reason with the crowd.

“Is this the kind of woman you’ll listen to?” He asks the thousands of people eager to put the noose around his neck. “She disappeared for weeks, and now she comes here with pretty speeches and you all swoon over her! Be smart, for God’s sake!” He pleads the crowd, and I actually think he’s just seconds away from going down on his knees. And to think that I used to feel attracted to someone as slimy as him. Well, at least I learned my lesson.

“Here he is,” I tell the crowd, raising my voice so that they hear me. They become quieter as they listen to me, and so I continue. “The man I was supposed to marry! And now he’s ready go down on his knees and beg to all of you, selling you lies upon lies. Let me tell you — as someone that was supposed to be his wife, I’d rather be with a man that actually stands for something than ever set eyes on Gladrell.”

With that, I take one step toward Richard and place one hand on his shoulder, smiling at him. If the whole crowd manages to add things up, they’ll quickly realize that I prefer Richard over Gladrell. Not something appropriate for a Princess to be doing, but so what? The people need someone real, not some cardboard leader like the sputtering Prince.

“Oh, fuck, here we go,” William whispers into my ear, coming up to me and pointing into the distance. I look toward the road at the end of the Main Square, and my heart tightens up inside my chest as I see a black stretch limo halting to a stop. Flanked by four heavy armored vehicles, there’s only one person I know that could be inside that limo.

It has finally come to this. A confrontation with the Devil herself.

Queen Moira.