Headcanons for the satrinava sisters when they end up being the next in line? No MC here, just possible angst. Thanks!
👑Satrinava Sisters + Unexpected Ascension
She’s always known this would happen, someday - woven into the title “crown princess” is the implication of inheritance
And there’s nothing to inherit until someone dies
It helps, having her sisters around for the funeral, but she’s also been preparing for this her entire life
She knows the schedule, the terms of address, who to receive in the throne room and who to see in the parlor
It fits like an outfit from a thrift store - surprisingly well - but it still doesn’t feel “right”; even though she’s gone through the motions, she’s had inevitability-dreams about funerals and coronations and hearing those exact words
“The Queen is dead; long live the Queen.”
When they get the news, they’re doing what they do best - patching up soldiers
The Royal Emissary looks very out-of-place amid the dried blood and battlefield grime, and they’re protecting the silver-lined envelope with their life from the dirt
Nazali reads the whole thing, slowly, then reads it again…then throws it away and says “no, thanks”
They’ll go back for the funeral, but they’re not staying in Prakra one second longer than they have to
It might be their birthright, but that doesn’t mean it’s what they want; if they’d wanted the crown, they would’ve stuck around to learn how to wear it
They’re better off, and Prakra is better off, right here, in the trenches, doing what they do best.
At first, it doesn’t click
Nazali was a thousand miles away when they died, and she’s been so busy trying to bring in all the other sisters from all the corners of the world, and make the arrangements, that when someone says the word “coronation”, she almost corrects them
Then, it runs down her back like an icy chill
Nahara has to catch her to keep her upright, and with a look, she begs her twin to help her carry this, or take it on herself
But though they’re only minutes apart, Navra came first, and Nahara can’t override the law
She can promise to stay as long as Navra needs a hand to hold, though, like the sun lighting the moon - where one goes, the other follows.
But now her twin is gone, and she can’t follow
Her whole life has been training, routine, discipline, and while the funeral arrangements are starting to become painfully routine, training is over, and it’s time for
What exactly has she been training for, all these years, in all these lands? To be the warrior queen…of a peaceful Empire?
She knows what her mother would want, what Nafizah would want, knows with stunning accuracy what Navra would say, and Nasmira is still there to advise
But what does Nahara want? How does she lead? Where does she go?
There’s a long line of gravestones behind the Palace, now; she lays flowers on every one
Since her coronation, Prakra needs a new liasion; Natiqa comes home, and takes to the job like a moth to a flame
Nadia offers to stay, after the funeral, but Vesuvia can’t be left alone for as long as Nasmira would need her hand to hold
She’s a good Queen. A popular Queen, since hers was the voice of the people, for so long
(And she understands now why her old job was so important; it’s so much harder to hear them from the throne)
She’s a strong Queen, and she rules with love.
It was never supposed to get this far
Once, when she was little, watching baby Dia toddle around the conservatory while Nafizah was fitted for some fancy headdress, she asked
“Mama, can I try on your crown?”
It kept falling down over her eyes, and when she complained about the weight, her mother laughed, and said
“My little Tiqa-Tiqá, if ever things were so tragic, that you had to wear this all the time…the weight would be the least of your worries”
At first, she says no - she made a commitment to Vesuvia, and she didn’t go through all the mess it was to keep it to abandon it now
On top of that, the thought of staying one minute more in the Palace where her mother died, her father, every one of her sisters lies interred in the Garden behind, is suffocating
She knows how to run a county, and she’s been doing a damn fine job of it, but an Empire is another beast - a many-headed beast with dozens of languages, libraries full of new laws, and countless new ways to screw it up
But even if she leaves, escapes the coronation, she’ll still be the Queen of Prakra, hiding in a hip little port town, signing ordinances to replace goat statues with owls and throwing the occasional party
Succession is instantaneous, responsibility unavoidable, and the Queens, all of them, are dead
She sends word to Vesuvia, and has her things sent back to Prakra. Long live the Queen.
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