The Empress stepped out, silks trailing behind her.
Havel, her loyal guard, fell into step beside her.
"Your Majesty," he murmured, careful that only she could hear. "Much has changed in your absence. The Rose Daphne has married the General."
The Empress' steps did not falter, but her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Eldoria went to war," Havel continued. "The General commanded the Skyblade Knights. Victory is his, and he marches home as we speak."
A muscle twitched in her jaw.
General Alaric Blake… ever the empire's golden sword.
"Rose Daphne has risen in your shadow," Havel went on, his voice lower now, laced with unease.
"She opened a charity home for women and children. The city praises her name. Rumors whisper she would make a finer empress than the Empress herself."
At that, the Empress stopped.
Her gaze slid toward him, sharp enough to cut glass. "What did you say?"
