Becoming

Zariah was relaxing in the family room after a long audience session of…nothing. Absolute nothingness. She had heard about all of this grumbling and griping about her reign and yet not a damn person hardly ever showed up to ask her anything. Typical. So many people took such pleasure in complaining, such pride in pointing out injustices and bruised egos, yet had absolutely no follow through to get anything done. It was exactly that sort of habit that resulted in the barrier being up for 300 years. When Peter entered, he would find her lounging on one of the overstuffed couches, her hair splayed out over a throw pillow, legs crossed and up along the backrest of the couch. Even Queens needed moments to simply exist after all. Hazel eyes glanced up at Peter as he entered, the woman making no move to rise or shift to a more formal position. ”Peter. You look…a mess.” she noted dryly, raising a brow at him. At least she was in normal clothes and not disheveled training gear, even if she was splayed out on the couch like a cat in the sun. ”What is it?” she asked, wondering what on earth he could be so eager to show her. zariah If it is danger you seek, come on over. I covet tranquility but beget the tempest storm.