Pride and the Fall

The guard that Feral had called over gladly led him in without any fuss. The inside of the Manor was just as majestic as the outside by Hollowed Grounds standards. He was left in the main meeting room, where a long ornate table and plush seating areas were available. And the young man wouldn’t have to wait long, the sound of heels clicking against the floor, growing ever louder as the person wearing them approached a door, indicating the entrance of the Queen. Zariah entered, likely more youthful in appearance than he might’ve expected, her wide doll-like eyes and perfectly blank expression framed by wild curls and the high collar of her jacket, the tails of which reached the back of her knees. She moved gracefully on terrifyingly high-heeled boots, tight black pants and an dangerously low cut top easily emphasizing the sway of her hips as she walked. She stopped a bit away from him, pausing before speaking. ”It is a pleasure to meet you Feral. For what purpose have you requested an audience?” she asked, voice low and sweet. zariah If it is danger you seek, come on over. I covet tranquility but beget the tempest storm.