The queen arrived. Empress Lihwa, her melodic voice, her composed face, her emerald robes, was there. She walked onto the balcony. Her steps, the graceful, empress steps, were there.
"Your Majesty," the empress said. Her voice was warm. The smile, the diplomatic, hostess smile, was there. "You have been talking to my daughter for half an hour now. Shouldn't you give the chance to this lady too?"
The joke, the light, flirtatious, diplomatic joke of a confident empress, was there. The smile, the warm, practiced smile, was on her face.
Then she saw.
Her daughter's face.
The tear-stained, flushed, swollen-lipped, vacant-eyed face of a woman who had been fucked was there. The cum, the trace of cum on her lips, was there. The trembling, the visible, physical trembling of her daughter's body, was there.
The smile, on the empress's face, faded.
