[So… is anyone going to say anything.] Nero drawled lazily.
I would if she'd stop looking at me like that, I thought.
We'd been sitting in silence since I arrived, the kind of quiet that makes you hyper-aware of every shift of fabric, every faint clink of porcelain. The Queen sat across from me like serenity incarnate—calm, elegant, perfectly at ease. Her posture had the kind of natural grace people trained years to imitate.
Meanwhile, I sat straight-backed with my hands folded neatly in my lap, composed but not stiff. Calm, measured breaths. At least I wasn't slouching. Small victories.
The scent of roses drifted in from the open garden doors, the warm sunlight catching the Queen's hair like it was trying to flatter her. Even the weather favored her. Impressive.
"Ahem," Queen Iris said at last, setting her teacup down with a delicate clink before turning her full attention toward me.
