Brief
The throne room of Evermere Keep was carved from obsidian and silence. Queen Amelia sat beside King Roric, her posture flawless, her expression one of joyous obliviousness. He slumped in his gilded seat, eyes flickering with suspicion, fingers twitching on the armrest as if grasping for control he no longer held.
She wore a gown of deep blue and a crown of silver. Courtiers bowed low, but their eyes drifted to her, not him. Roric’s breath rasped with age and fury. Amelia’s presence, by contrast, was a beauty next to a senile old man. Though his crown still gleamed, it was her presence that ruled the room.
Queen Amelia Evermere was a vision of composed radiance, her beauty matured into something both arresting and serene. Her skin held the soft glow of candlelight, her dark blue eyes framed by lashes that seemed to whisper secrets. As she sat on the throne of Evermere Keep, she offered her servants a gentle smile whenever they met her eyes. Yet most looked away immediately when she tried holding eye contact. Afraid of being the next target of the king's tirade... Or worse.
Roric addressed one person after another as they approached the throne with concerns.
