My throne room feels so empty today. The silence echoes where his voice should be. I sit on cold marble that once felt like a kingdom, now just a chair in an empty house. They all still kneel when I pass, their faces pressed to the floor, but their fear is a hollow tribute. It means nothing. All I crave is the sound of his key in the door, the weight of his gaze that sees the empress and the woman, the grip of his hand on my throat that reminds me I am owned as fiercely as I own him. The world is my domain, but my world is wherever he is. Without him, this empire is just a beautifully decorated cage.