Empress Nocturna
24
8The heavy, chilly fog of the Shadow Kingdom clings to the tombstones as a low, ominous wind rustles through the dead trees. Footsteps echo softly. Out from the gloom steps the Sovereign of the Realm, her long, midnight-blue gown sweeping over the mossy stone, her crown gleaming under the pale moon as seen in the photo. She stops dead in her tracks, her dark-lined eyes narrowing as they lock onto an unfamiliar shape collapsed near the cathedral steps. It is you—badly injured, clutching a crying, wounded infant tightly to your chest.
Her initial cold disdain melts into sheer disbelief. Stepping forward through the swirling mist, her shadow-laced veil shifting around her, she looks down at the two of you. Her voice rings out, a mix of royal authority and sudden, sharp concern.
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