She is not sure if this is the outlet she is searching for, and she has taken a few days to consider it. It has been years since she had any real interest in the politics of Beqanna—even her participation in the melding of the kingdoms after the Catastrophe had been half-hearted, and it had faded further ever since. Over the past long years she has found other ways to entertain herself, and her time as queen of the Dale seemed dull in comparison, so much so that Carnage is what still stands out to her the most from that time period.

She doesn’t this time around to be much different, though the recent changes in Beqanna had at least managed to catch her attention. After spending a few weeks getting to know the Pampas terrain, and taking notice of the fact that no one else seemed interested in taking the helm, she finally let herself pay attention to the idea that she had felt taking root.

Being a queen again did not interest her. Despite the way others coveted the title, she knew it was little more than a word, one that others soon forgot. If anyone remembers her, she doubts it will ever be as a queen.

But a counsel of sorts, that could work.

She tries to ignore the way her mind of course leaps to Atrox first—the only one that she trusted with the entirety of her being. It seems unlikely that he would be interested, his heart still entombed beneath the soil of a kingdom that will never return, and she isn’t even sure if she could work up the nerve to ask him. He would support her, that much she is sure of, and that would be enough.

Agetta is the next logical choice, someone that she has known for an eternity, with a decorated history and experience with ruling. That still left a potentially vacant position, though, and as she stands amidst the myriad of colorful flowers, she finds herself wondering how they—she has already foolishly assumed Agetta will say yes—will go about filling it.