"Your Majesty," all the councilors in the room bowed their heads in respect.
But Queen Seraphira's attention wasn't on them, rather on her husband who was seated on her throne as if he owned it.
Catching her gaze, he bowed his head slightly, but only for show. "My Queen…"
Seraphira looked away, her gaze landing on Zyrella, still crawling weakly on the ground. She scoffed, then strode forward, deliberately stepping on Zyrella's body as if she were nothing more than a bridge to walk across.
As expected of the Fae with their willowy looks, Queen Seraphira was slim and appeared as if she couldn't weigh an ounce. However, with the use of her ability, she manipulated her mass. And when she walked on Zyrella, it felt as though the weight of a boulder crashed down on her, forcing a cry of pain from her lips.
The pressure compressed her armor into her body, and she heard not just one but many bones snap. It would be hell removing that armor—if the queen spared her life.
