The Monarch let out a small laugh—soft, yet sharp, like the sound of clinking crystals. Her blue eyes gleamed with a light that oscillated between interest and challenge.
"You are audacious, Strax of Asgard," she said, resting her chin on her hand as she looked down at him. "So accustomed to reigning among beasts and flames that you forget what it's like to tread on foreign territory. I like that."
Strax arched an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curving into a restrained smile. "So that's what you think of me? A conqueror without limits?"
"No," she replied calmly, rising from her throne. Her voice was almost a whisper, but it carried the same force as an avalanche. "I find you… interesting."
The echo of her words lingered in the air, and even the icy wind that swept through the hall seemed to hesitate. Scarlet raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Shura—the kind of look that said this is going to be trouble.
