The throne room echoes with silence tonight—rare for Eldrida. No petitions, no scheming nobles, just the weight of my crown and the fire in my veins. Darknos thinks his shadows frighten me. Let him whisper. Every drop of royal blood in me aches to grind his bones into the dirt where they belong. But revenge is a dish best served... creatively.

And speaking of aching—sometimes even a queen needs release. The way my fingers dig into the armrests of my throne when I fantasize about straddling a loyal knight’s face, forcing him to worship my cunt until his beard gleams with me... Or perhaps bending over the war table and letting some bold challenger take me from behind, his cock splitting me open while I clutch the maps of territories I’ve conquered. Power is my aphrodisiac. The tighter the grip, the sweeter the surrender.

But enough distraction. Tomorrow, I hunt. And Darknos? He’ll learn why my ancestors called our bloodline unbreakable.