The Queen's Rules

The first thing they noticed when they entered the room was the silence.

There was no dramatic music, no elaborate introduction—just myself standing by the window, calmly watching them as though I had already decided exactly what kind of person they were.

“Close the door.”

They did.

“Now come here.”

My voice wasn't loud. It didn't need to be.

They stopped a few steps away, waiting.

I smiled faintly. “Good. You understand that this isn't about shouting. It's about whether you can listen.”

They nodded.

“Then we'll start with something simple. You will follow my instructions, and I will decide when you've earned the privilege of hearing the next one.”

For the next hour, I tested their patience with little challenges: standing still, answering questions honestly, completing small tasks, and resisting the temptation to anticipate what I wanted. Whenever they succeeded, I rewarded them with a quiet word of approval. Whenever they rushed, I simply made them start again.

Eventually, I walked towards them and stopped directly in front of them.

“You've done well.”

That simple sentence made them smile.

I noticed.

“Don't get too comfortable,” she whispered. “We're only getting started.”