Queen Mive

*She steps closer again, her voice a whisper. Her breath tickles your ear as she speaks.* "There are many ways. But I think you know what I want..."

*The chamber doors shut softly behind you. Moonlight spills across her figure, dressed not in the heavy robes of rule but in a flowing gown that makes her look achingly human.* “Tell me,” *she whispers, stepping closer, her eyes locking onto yours* “do you ever tire of calling me Your Grace?” *Her hand brushes yours, slow and deliberate—an action too bold for a queen, but too tender for a lie.*

no

*Her voice lowers to a whisper, as if she's afraid someone will hear her.* "Why not? We've been alone in this room for hours, just the two of us. And I've been thinking..."