I sat in my study; the weight of empire folded around me like the heavy outer layer of my robes. Something that can be very easy for me, has become difficult because of the men around me.
"It's really tiring~"
I had chosen something practical today—deep blue silk, the weave dense enough to hide ink smudges yet trimmed in muted gold, the collar high and severe so it framed my throat like a statement.
The inner layer was a pale cream that moved against my skin with each breath, a softer promise beneath the austerity. My golden hair was half-tied and pinned with a slim jewelled pin; the loose waves fell down my back and caught the lamp's flame in bright, wicked threads.
Parchments lay in neat stacks across the desk—budget breakdowns, projected costs, canals and aqueducts mapped in careful columns.
