“Uneasy lies one’s head. An ancient, cumbersome crown might have suited our forefathers, whose exploits on the battlefield could effortlessly carry this heavy a headgear, yet it is ill-fitted for a monarch that governs an empire from a throne room.”
“As fortune would have it, our Commonwealth includes kingdoms spanning the entirety of the globe. We have procured a crown more fitted to her Majesty’s needs. A true Indian treasure”
“This crown, was it procured with bloodshed?”
“The raj is not a popular rule.”
“We detest violence, mister prime minister.”
The queen took the crown in her hands and inspected it thoroughly.
“But we do find it pretty. Can you procure more of this ilk?”
“Not without more bloodshed.”
The queen put the crown on her head. It was light. A far better fit than the English crown.
“The world deserves British rule,” she said.
“And we hear the gems of the Dark Continent shine brighter still.
Go conquer it.”
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