Ok-ahem ahem ahem COUGH CoUGh-
A young queen stands barefoot on a wooden block with only her arms outstretched. She has only her scant underclothes and the long, black hair that hangs down her back to fend off the drafts. Every ounce of strength in her slight frame is needed to keep her chin high and her shoulders square. Two tall women circle the block.
"She is thin, and far too small. Small queens do not inspire much confidence. The others on the council will not stop whispering about it."
Genevieve looks at the queen with disgust, taking in her hallow cheeks, her pale skin, the scabs from a rubbing of poison oak that still cover her right hand. But no scars. They are always careful never to leave any scars.