Welcome! This month I’m writing a small story each day to try to brainstorm a future full-length novel, a sequel to my current WIP Memories and Magic.
Today’s prompt is: Mountain
Later that night, when everyone else retired, Clara stayed in the common room, staring at the fire. The servants hadn’t registered she was there and they had turned down the lamps. Clara didn’t mind. It gave the whole room a gloomy atmosphere that matched her mood.
She thought about her father. She had been thinking about him a lot lately, and what he would do in her situation. As a girl, she had thought that being the King meant there was nothing her father couldn’t do. She had thought that if he snapped his fingers, the mountains would bend to his will.
It was only in the year before his death that he had really started to share with her just what a challenge ruling the country was. That the expectation of moving mountains was on his shoulders not just from his daughter, but every one of his subjects.
He had been twice Clara’s age when he assumed the throne. Clara had magic where he hasn’t, but still… How was she supposed to do this without him?