The courtroom was a sea of bated breath and whispered prayers as the heavy oak doors groaned open. The sound of footsteps echoing across the marble was not the frantic clicking of a nervous petitioner, but a slow, deliberate rhythm.
Regina entered like a storm moving through a cathedral. She was draped in silk as dark as a moonless night, the fabric seeming to absorb the light of the gold chandeliers.
A delicate, obsidian veil concealed her face, revealing only the sharp line of her jaw and the haunting, midnight-black hair that cascaded over her shoulders. Her shadows remained hidden, yet the air around her hummed with an unmistakable, predatory energy.
Draven, standing near the throne, felt a jolt of electricity strike his spine. He couldn't see her eyes, but he felt her presence like a blade held against his throat.
She came to a halt before the dais and offered a bow that was perfectly formal, yet carried no hint of subservience. "Your Majesty," she said, her voice a cool, resonant melody that seemed to ripple through the room.
King Maltherion leaned forward, his gaze fixed on the veiled figure. "The news of your awakening has reached every corner of my lands, Regina. The North has not seen such a resurgence of power in generations."
He paused, a flicker of genuine admiration in his weathered eyes. "Your ability to command the ancient stones of the Obsidian Keep is a feat few in history could claim. You have turned a ruin into a fortress of legend."
Regina stood perfectly still, her hands clasped before her. "Your Majesty is generous with his praise," she replied, her tone polite but devoid of warmth.
"However," she continued, her voice sharpening with intent, "I suggest we should move onto the matters which hold the weight of your invitation. Time is a resource neither of us should squander."
The King straightened, his brow lifting in a look of impressed surprise. He was used to nobles who drowned their requests in hours of flattery; this straightforwardness was a rare, jagged honesty.
"Very well," Maltherion said, his voice dropping into a more serious register. "Let us speak plainly then. You have been invited here to discuss an alliance. State your terms, Regina."
The courtroom fell into a deathly silence. Every minister and priest leaned in, their hearts hammering against their ribs.
"I do not seek gold, nor do I seek land," Regina stated, her voice carrying to the very back of the hall. "The Obsidian Keep is self-sufficient. What I require is influence over the direction of this Empire."
She tilted her head slightly, the veil shimmering. "I request a permanent seat in the Imperial Ministry. I wish to have a voice in the laws that govern the bloodlines of this land."
The King did not react immediately. He gripped the arms of his throne, his eyes narrowing as he weighed the request. It was a bold, unprecedented demand for a sovereign of a separate territory.
"A seat in the ministry is a heavy burden to grant," the King remarked cautiously, his gaze searching the dark silk of her veil. "Tell me, Sovereign Regina... what can you offer this kingdom in return for such power?"
Regina's hand moved slightly, her fingertips tracing the air as if she were touching the invisible threads of fate.