Shortcomings

Green eyes ogled Mircea, the woman standing in front of her was not the one she knew three months back. There was a whole new person standing in front of her in a midnight black armoured gown. She matched her glare-her head stood as high as Mirceas'. 

"You look ravishing, as always." Etna stood behind Mircea looking at the reflection of her queen in the mirror. "However, you are no more the girl I knew when your father was alive." She commented while assessing Mircea's reflection in the mirror. 

"If I were still her, I wouldn't have this crown on my head, or likely a head to begin with." Mircea humored Etna who smirked at her. 

"Well, let's get going. After all, we have a play to enact." Mircea lastly sheathed her sword and pulled the belt on her waist, letting the sheathed sword hang openly on her waist. 

"Yes, your majesty." Etna bowed leaving Mircea to be.