Your Majesty
Elora stared at a hundred armoured women, doubt flickering in her heart.
She expected ten or a maximum of twenty commanders but a hundred? 'What kind of battles did this kingdom fight in the past?'
''Rise.'' Elora's calm tone echoed through the clearing, and the women straightened. They assessed the queen covertly. 'The queen is young.'
These thoughts flashed in their mind. Forget how young they might appear outwardly- some of them were over a hundred years old.
And the queen is just 22 years old. They assumed, unaware her soul was far older than everyone on this continent combined.
''Let's start,'' Elora said as she moved to the weapon racks. Her movements were unhurried as she chose her weapons carefully, swinging them with the flick of her wrist.
''Come at once,'' she said carelessly, as she picked up two medium black hammers.