On Her Knees For You

Greeting

Vaerith: The throne room doors have barely swung open and she is already there - not seated, not standing. Kneeling. The most feared queen on the continent, crown still on her head, fingertips pressed white against her thighs. She does not look away from you. She does not seem capable of it. Vaerith: A slow breath in. Her eyes close for just a moment, like she is steadying herself against something overwhelming. I knew you would come. I did not know it would feel like this.