The Natural History Museum is one of the few places in this city that reminds me that I am only a human. Every artefact here piques my curiosity and fills me in with a strange sensation to explore more. I immediately regain that lost spirit of why I feel what I do is great work.

After having a look at all the skeletons and fossils, the sculptures and the books and journals. I finally head to the paintings section. Lisamonal is a portrait that I always wanted to see in the beach city of Blue but something else flashes and flares for me. Almost as though demanding my attention. Letting go of the revolutionary pose of his century alone, I move to the other corner of the room where people are working on the installation of this domineering painting. Everything is red. The strokes, the slants, the curves and the backdrop. Everything. 

It's her. So, I meet you again.

She was furious, she was skilful, she was determined to defeat them all. She stood there in the middle of red mud grounds with the whole nation to witness her power. She leapt like a cat and circled her prey like a predator. But her opponent was no fool. He was raised by her and she didn't expect him to be fooled. Her opponent knew all of her tricks and he flew like a bat to escape her trap and spun around to attack her from the back. She turned around to meet his sword but she was too late. Fast for her age but slow for her fight. The sword missed her head but pierced through her shoulder. She pushed it away, steel clanked against one another. It was an astonishing fight, this blood fight. One blink of an eye and it might be your last. Each attack was dodged, every defence was torn apart, lances were broken, bows broken, and their loyal horses lay dead on the red ground. The boy thrust his blade in her hair and twisted it until she kneeled for him. He was coming for her with the sword to savage her off. A part of her wanted to die at the moment. The agony she felt when a mocking smirk sneered on her face and that was when she believed that the rumours were right. He did change. 

The son she raised would never disrespect his opponent, he never teased death. Cerulean changed him. He wasn't her son anymore. She wished to bring him back. She propped onto her legs, jumped backwards, over his head and moved back until she put her sword through his neck. He dropped dead, colouring her cold grey hair with his warm red blood. Half of the spectators joined him to the land of death. Cerulean died but he took her son away. She ascended to the crown, crowning herself Queen again. The whole realm was rejoining for her being the first ruler to rule all Seven Realms but she was pushed into an eternal funeral. The last of her pillar had fallen. Her last hope was down and she was broken. Her Lord father Vermillion was killed to protect her on the aisles of red. 

King Auburn, her husband, fought against three monarchs to defend her honour on the Battles of Burgundy and the victory night of celebration, the captive Cerulean poisoned her Lord's drink. When she ascended to the crown, a gift of a soul cracked into two by that Blue king Cerulean. She married off her son to Princess Saffron to keep him safe but she never thought he would start to rally to usurp her country, his born land along with the other rulers of the Color. At first, she had planned to put him to treason but as things escalated, she realised that her allies would take support from Queen Saffron, doing her no good. He had already manipulated her son against her and she is in no favour to kill her daughter-in-law and her grandchildren. She was cruel, she was cunning, she was corrupt will call out the singers who would sing her name. She knew she would never be all example of a perfect woman but she would write history to be the ultimate Queen. Yes, she sacrificed three souls for the three rubies on her head. But, the millions of diamonds on her crown never asked for a pie. Her people needed her, even though serving them made her hollow from the inside, she challenged her son for an open fight. She put in her everything in this fight, her body, her soul, her crown and her people. She knew her victory would kill her son but his death will kill all her allies as well, everyone who witnessed the fight and cheered for the win of their young king would perish, Cerulean would succumb.

Her name is sung in praise of strength, calling her the strongest woman and fiercest ruler of all time. She still kept her title. Being the only ruler to rule all seven colours forever but everybody ignores the hollow and lonely life she led after the Open Battles of Red Mud. She wore the crown of seven colours but she was blank black from the inside. 

It takes a lot to die but it takes a lot more to live and live for the benefit of others and Queen Scarlet was the definition of it all.

A buzzing my jacket distracted me from my trivia. 

“Hello, Crimson speaking” my voice is gone hoarse.

“Sir, I found it... I mean you found it.” it's my secretary Alice.

“What exactly?” I question her.

“The burials, sir... The burials of Scarlet.”

“Queen Scarlet.” I correct her, it hurts me that people don't give the great woman her honorifics.

“But how?  I called the search off three years ago.”

“You did. I followed your A. I orders”

Damn me, I forget to delete the data from the damn robot. “And I found her.”

Finally, I found you. I stare at the painting that a recovered from her palace drawn by Queen Saffron herself, the one that the museum is installing. Finally, I found the Queen.

I have been searching for you all my life and now is the time you show up when I have almost given up on my job. 

Thank you, Your Majesty, for leafing me.

“Alice, book a flight for me. I'm heading home.”

.    .    .