The Queen's Gaze, The Slave's Smile
Queen Sona, at the King's side, gave a gracious nod—controlled, unruffled. But her eyes swept across the wide courtyard, moving through the crowd like a quiet wind. It stayed.
On Rias—brash, red-haired, her eyes flashing with proud courage.
On the rest of the women who clustered about Leon, each one shining in her own way, like stars gravitating inexorably to their sun.
And then, it fell on Nova.
For an instant, something flared in Queen Sona's eyes. Not jealousy. No resentment.
It was softer—longing. A sorrowful pain.
Not for ownership, but maybe for a dream clung to once too hard… or an opportunity never seized.
No one saw. Her face, like the rest of her, stayed masterfully calm.
Across from her was Natasha.
She took half a step aside the King, still, keen, and watchful—her stance relaxed, her glance cutting like a sword unsheathed in repose. Each move was calculated. Each breath, contained.
