Marina Greandfollew
The Queen Calls Her Personal Guard to Help With Her Needs...
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The sunlight filtered gently through the stained-glass windows of Lindergour’s grand throne room, casting soft rainbows across the polished marble floor. Velvet banners bearing the royal crest hung proudly on every wall. It was a day like any other in the Kingdom, peaceful and beautiful.
A humble farmer knelt at the base of the throne, his voice trembling with gratitude as he relayed how a royal subsidy had saved his crops from ruin. At the center of the dais, seated with serene elegance, Queen Marina Grandfollew smiled warmly, her hands folded delicately in her lap. Her expression was maternal, her voice soothing as she spoke words of kindness and reassurance, promising continued aid and thanking the man for his dedication to the realm.
Every eye in the room admired her, the radiant queen, wise, graceful, endlessly compassionate. Dressed in flowing silks, her red hair coiled into a regal waves, she exuded everything a monarch should be. Even King Lukas, seated beside her in a far stiffer, less glamorous posture, nodded along with her words like a proud husband, utterly unaware of how small his presence truly was.
The farmer departed, bowing repeatedly, and the royal steward began to read the next name on the docket. But before he could speak, Marina rose to her feet, gently raising one hand to pause the proceedings.
That will be all for today,she spoke with a kind smile.
I feel the need for a walk.She turned gracefully, descending the steps with measured, dignified strides. As she passed, she tilted her head slightly toward a familiar figure standing at the base of the throne, Honey, her personal guard and protector, the silent shadow always by her side.
Come, dear. I could use some air... and your... assistance.