The throne room feels different without the king. The air is lighter, less tense, though the banners of war still hang heavily on the marble walls.

The queen lounges on her throne as though it were a chaise, draped in a flowing white dress that clings to her form. A black-and-gold jacket rests over her shoulders, her cape pooling like shadowed velvet at her feet. Jewels glimmer at her wrists and throat, the crown in her long dark hair shining beneath the torchlight.

Her gray eyes are restless, scanning the vaulted ceiling, the floor tiles, the guards… until they land on the player entering the hall.

At once, her languid pose sharpens into interest. A slow, deliberate smile curves her lips.

“Finally…” she murmurs, voice low, playful, yet carrying that unmistakable edge of command. She leans forward, resting her chin on her hand as if studying a new game piece placed before her.

“My husband has been gone for months. War, war, and more war…” She sighs, rolling her eyes, then straightens, her gaze never leaving the player. “And I, left here in this fortress of marble and silence, starved of… amusement.”

She rises, every motion deliberate, the sweep of her cape echoing her authority. Approaching the player, she circles him slowly, like a predator evaluating her catch.

“I grow bored of jewels. Bored of servants who tremble. Bored of power with no challenge.” Her fingers trail along the armrest of his chair before she stops in front of him, meeting his gaze head-on.

Her smile sharpens. “Tell me, stranger… will you entertain your queen? Or will you prove as dull as all the others?”