Inside the Resplendent Queen's Palace
Within the resplendent Queen's Palace, there gleamed a stillness of quiet majesty.
A woman beyond ordinary beauty reclined upon the throne, snow-white legs elegantly crossed, golden silk glued to the lines of her devilish, captivating form. Each fold of her gown seemed to highlight power and temptation, like molten sun tracing the outlines of a Goddess.
But next to her curvy, passionate body, it was her face that portrayed the true heavens—a perfect face, slim and luminous, with a beauty so ideal it was as if it might be touched by no one.
She had about her a stern, haughty presence, the sort that caused any human to pause before venturing to approach. Each breath she breathed spoke the grandeur of a queen, icy and aloof, inaccessible to the profane.
And yet, within this great hall, there was no-one to behold her grandeur. No courtiers, guards, or subjects—nothing but silence. Only in isolation might the great Queen Rose permit herself to seem vulnerable, a fleeting hint of human desire tempering her otherwise unbreakable composure.
There was a flash of wistfulness that ignited her phoenix eyes as she remembered the wide back that once protected her when she was helpless. In memory, the protective figure loomed large, a rock against the tide of cruelty and fate.
Her vision dissolved in tears. She had thought time would wear away the memory of him who had rescued her, but instead, the opposite had occurred. With each year that went by, the yearning increased, an insatiable longing that never lessened.
Without him at the time… I would have been gone, consumed by the abyss of despair.
It was he who had rescued her from death and filled her with hope. Their laughter, their small gestures branded into her heart, were unforgettable.
"Nux… I wonder if you're well…" she whispered softly, her voice a gentle echo in the hollow of the hall.
"Rose has waited for you… for so many years!"
For all these years, I have heard but you. I let no one else come close… no one!"
Her scarlet lips parted, her whisper flavored with longing and wistfulness, and her eyes glowed with a liquid sheen, as if they would spill over with unvoiced feeling.
If anyone were to find out that the Queen of the Soulforge Citadel had waited for years for just one man, it would cause strife, jealousy, and outrage among the mightiest of men.
Queen Rose—the undisputed Goddess of the era—had talent and strength that broke arrogance in her contemporaries. Numerous Spiritual Paragons had adored her looks, honored her power, and only dared dream about her affections.
But even so, none had come near to her. Partly it was shame, partly the awful realization that she spurned all men without exception.
Regardless of your power, your status, your bloodline—if you ventured near her, one word was sufficient: Begone!
But now, with the world absent, that very proud, inaccessible queen softened her heart. Tenderness, yearning, and enduring hope flooded into her mind, focused only on the man who had long promised to come back.
Years had gone by, but Queen Rose had never ceased waiting. She had clung to the vow he had uttered: that he would come back once he had completed his journey, whatever that journey was.
Her slender fingers touched against the smooth, pale cheeks, and she spoke with fixation:
"Nux… do you know that Rose has reached the height of her youth?"
"When… when will you return?"
"It's been so hard to wait for you…"
At last, she pouted, her ruby lips curling into a soft, almost girlish snort.
"Nux… stinking pig! If you don't return soon, Rose will not be fair enough! And then… you won't be able to hate me!"
A rosy flush colored her snow-white cheeks, her vulnerability transient but genuine.
Dang dang!
The sound of a soft tap broke the stillness.
Rose's softness disappeared in a second, her eyes snapping razor-sharp, full of the grandeur and wonder that only a queen can inspire.
"Who dares interrupt me?"
Outside the palace gate, Platinum Bishop Pallas shook. The iciness of her voice penetrated to the bone. With held breath, he stuttered:
"Your Majesty… Platinum Bishop Pallas welcomes you."
Silence hung. Then with steeling himself, Pallas went on, voice shaking:
"Your Majesty… somebody says they are your… hus—husband…"
Before he had even gotten out the word, a regal female voice thundered from inside:
"Do you want death?"
Roll…
Pallas wiped the clammy sweat off his brow, cursing the boy in secret. The Queen hates men with a legendary fervor. And this insolent brat comes bounding up? Fool or dumb… I have to see it through.
He bowed lower in submission, shivering. "Your Majesty, a stranger has arrived to pay his respects… he says he knows you extremely well."
Boom!
The palace doors burst open in a deafening crash, a hurricane tearing through the hall.
The Queen emerged, with a nine-curved purple-gold crown resting on her head, and a gem-studded sceptre in her hand that shone with the fluidity of sunlight. Its presence took over the steps, a sight so resplendent it was almost godlike.
She was tall, her eyes cold and authoritative, surveying the entrance.
"Pallas… what is this individual's appearance?"