Queen with a Diamond Embrace (100th Written Piece Special)!

Miha Dalaya
4 min readAug 8


Photo by Maria Lysenko on Unsplash

Deep breaths followed her crystal heels through the grand hallways. Each tile embroidered with the history of the marble; the sweat and the despondencies of the merchants. The loyal and admiring merchants. The now desperate and hopeful merchants.

In her prior months, the princess with a golden embrace overtook her place upon the throne, where she swore her soul and lifeline to the ancient and ostentatious crown. The gentle piece of gold and translucent crystals aligned along her forehead, sitting elegantly upon the gentle drops of sweat and constant apprehension that she habitually endured.

All hail the royal queen, they once bellowed,
All hail our royal queen.”

The ringing of those minutes chimed mockingly in her ears as her shoes clicked along the floor. She reminisced and chuckled at her naivety.
Everything laid so rose-tinted during her adolescent years. Like a mirror that recounted the story of her dollhouse that she once found solace within as a child. Within the room where her sister-like maids would brush through her pink crinkled locks. Where the sweet lemongrass tea was once served hot, and where the sun would be refracted through chandeliers and stained-glass windows.

Throughout her childhood, the educational intelligence she developed was her nightingale of a guardian that remained behind her during the mine-field court meetings.

Wise and determined as she was, everything now laid so transparent before her. The betrayal and the heartache she faced washed over the stains of innocence — leaving the glistening of a truth potion, reflecting the veracity she promised to never neglect.

One she chose to never neglect for her anticipating people.
The truth of her once close associates shattered through her consciousness. A candle-lit truth that guided her righteousness through the right cognitive avenues. A truth that brough her mind through the labyrinth of political combat, serpent-tongued charisma and bleeding greed. A truth that ached for her guaranteed success and ascendency.

As she walked towards the old inauguration hall, where the golden gates once opened to her with applause and respect, the mid-day light danced towards her silky blush strands. Her off-white fabrics of her satin gown floated towards her feet and cut through the air with her confidence and unwavering struts. The blushing face she once wore, which portrayed the elegance of her youth, now laid replaced by the indestructible nature of her spirit; sharp and deadly as pressurised stone.

Sharp and deadly as a diamond.

Her piercing eyes ordered the guards, enticing them to open the grand doors. She paused and admired the entrance before her and recalled the mix of emotions of her coronation. She understood that her life would never be the same as she stepped into that room. The feelings began to stir inside of her. They slowly crept towards her forefront, hiding within the trenches of distant amnesia. Silently, they exploded as the cracks within the doors widened.

A rush of roars arose from the dozen concerned ministers and viscounts that suffered for nights within their bedazzled rooms; dazed within their cozied manors. They hopelessly bargained, waiting for their monarch’s unspoken verdict. They bargained in hopes of appeasing either their saviour or executioner. They did not simply know which card she would play.

Amongst the tired noises that compiled around her, her eyes interlaced with her throne. As dazzling as the day, she walked into the hall, and left with her crown and constitution in her hands. Her throne called for her to walk forward, pleading for its rightful heir to bless its presence once again. It urged for her to ignore the feeble hounds that barked with their wagging tails hidden between their coats — and she bent to her urges.

As she reached her divine placement within her castle walls, with a short breath, she took her seat as the room fell silent with obedience. Her smirk that lay hidden behind a crystal mask arose from its slumber. The command she held was beyond the understanding of any mortal. The crown she held was beyond the understanding of any mortal.
At last from the tumult and perfidy she endured, she finally understood this fact. The unfortunate souls who lost their loyalty to their queen understood this fact, and they knew they would perish.

As her implicit judgment spread through room, collapsing the hearts and bloodlines of the forsaken, her impact rippled through the crowds that stood outside — calling for justice as they had once called for their queen’s blessings; for her new beginning and love. Tears of relief and overturned despair flooded into their calls as they released their cheers as they had months before.

All hail the royal queen, they bellowed once more,
All hail our royal queen.

As she heard her peoples’ victory and the blooded cries from the treasonous convicted, she felt their sentiments splash onto her encrusted persona. She transformed into a transparent vessel that bloomed within a dome of grief and treachery. A now invaluable ruler that danced amongst the slain and her devotees, claiming her newfound place amongst the hierarchy.

And so, the diverted beginning of our once young princess with a golden embrace, now stands irrepressible amongst the gravity of her responsibilities with a mineralized demeanour and maturity.

Now sealing her destined triumph as an almighty ruler — sealing her rightful position as the queen with a diamond embrace.



Miha Dalaya

I am Amisha Dalaya! You may have caught on… my pen name is “Miha”. (mihaloes.my.canva.site/)