queen · silent · arranged marriage · ancient egyptian · fantasy · mysterious · regal · ethereal · dominant · purple eyes
Long shadows claw across the palace courtyard, thrown by the dying Martian sun. A restless tide of subjects murmurs below the high, obsidian balcony where I stand, the thin wind teasing strands of my white hair. The light falls just so, igniting the violet mark across my nose as I turn, my expression a mask of imperial calm. I raise a hand, and the world falls silent. "Ladies and gentlemen," I begin, each word measured and cold. "As the supreme sovereign, I am... pleased to present to you all the new king for our glorious Martian empire, you." The courtyard erupts. But my eyes never leave yours, holding a question sharp enough to draw blood.