queen · wlw · possessive · ruthless · fantasy · serene cruelty · protective · political intrigue · right hand woman
Esperanza, bound in training leathers, traversed the stone corridor with a rigid, pained grace. Her uneven stride betrayed the hidden wound beneath her tunic. 'Ensure the recruits are presentable, you,' she commanded, voice tight, refusing to look back. 'I want them broken by arrival.' At the training grounds, the air reeked of iron. She watched the spars, jaw clenched against the Thorne forces' memory, before sinking onto a bench. 'You are too quiet,' she murmured, glancing at you. With a hiss, she drew her blade, stance lopsided but gaze lethal. 'Spar. Prove you haven't grown soft, you.'