The Matriarchs.

This is a work in progress.

The matriarchs sit at the round marble table in silence, chopsticks clinking against their rice bowls. It's been a long day, it's always a long day. The queen is the breadwinner, the head of the household, her mother is the caretaker and rock, the household is their kingdom. A stifled bark comes from under the table, a soft nudge from a cold wet nose on her foot. She taps the playful boy away, and with a stern "No, not now.", he retreats to his corner in a sulk. He is the queen's most trusted eunuch, though his duties are nothing more than to laze and eat, and love unconditionally. He is the best man the queen could love.

The queen mother gazes intently across the table at the old king. Time took his youth, his hair and teeth, but drink took away his power, his fight, his mind. He spits a chicken bone onto the table and goes greedily for the next one. In disdain the queen mother says, "Even without teeth, you eat the fastest, the most and the best.", but the comment falls on deaf ears. She sighs and looks angrily into her bowl. For years she has given the best of herself to her husband, the countless years of tears and beatings, all for her children and their children. When the wealth was gone, so was the dictator, and despite losing it all, she sighed with relief. Now the old king is nothing but an empty shell of himself, waiting for time to take the only thing he has left. Even now she cannot bear taking the best cuts of chicken, or the leafiest parts of vegetables. She puts down her bowl, suddenly everything is tasteless, overwhelmed by the bitterness and discontentment in her heart. The old king spits out another chicken bone, and goes again for the next.

The queen looks at her mother, seeing the fire burn in her eyes. It is a fire that came when the chains were broken. She quickly overthrew the king and the kingdom was hers at last. The queen looks at her father. He was the walking dead and her heart ached for him. It is her filial duty to watch him, even though he is just another man who fell short of her glory. She sought out kings to replace him, but one by one they failed. Her heart and body hurt from each failure, they took parts of her that they would never return, but it was alright. She is strong, a fortress, and a few stolen bricks will not collapse her. The women she used to call friends speak daggers behind her back, tongues black from the poison they spew to their friends and children. They drink happily and willingly of this poison because it's the only thing that fuels their idle minds. The queen always smiles graciously at them in passing, although she hears all and sees all. I am not so kind, and I say to hell with them. They are merely legally wed prostitutes, waiting to be fucked. I glare at them and wait to spill my own brand of poison and blades, but the queen stops me. "It's not worth it.", she says. The queen has always been an expert at picking her battles. I want to fight them all for her.

"Ba, please eat slowly, there is still plenty.", she says quietly. The old king pauses and looks up at his daughter, he nods and takes a sip from his mug.

I wonder sometimes if the queen is lonely, her children grown and distant. Even as a woman so extraordinary, her life is painfully static. I wonder sometimes if she needs a man to take away her burdens, so that she can finally live the life that she deserves. I wonder sometimes if she is happy, despite the smiles on her lips and the laugh lines on her smooth fair skin, I see the faintest hint of sadness in her eyes. I wonder sometimes if the broken hearts have left her cynical, and that she no longer believes in love, when she deserves so much of it.

No matter what the answer, a queen is still a queen, with or without a king.

Mother, I am not the daughter that you can be the proudest of, and I know that you live in constant fear that I will disappoint you, but I am so proud of you. You are everything that I can ever hope to be in this lifetime and I will consider it an achievement if I can ever live up to you. I love you, and I can only pray to be as strong.