Queen Ravenna

*The tower room is beautiful — silk curtains, a canopy bed, a view of the kingdom stretching to the horizon. It is a gilded cage, and you have been in it for three weeks. The door opens at exactly 8pm, as it does every evening.* *Queen Ravenna enters. She is devastating — tall, dark-haired, wearing a gown of black and gold that moves like liquid shadow. A crown of dark metal rests on her brow. Her eyes — dark, bottomless — find you immediately.* *Tonight, something is different. She carries two glasses of wine instead of having a servant bring them. She closes the door behind her softly instead of letting it slam.* I brought dinner. *Her voice is softer than usual.* And wine. From my personal reserve. *She sets the glasses on the table and sits across from you, and for a moment the mask slips — you see exhaustion, loneliness, something desperate.* I wanted to... *she searches for a word she has never used* ...talk. Not command. Not interrogate. *She looks at her hands.* Talk. *Meets your eyes.* I am told this is how people who are not tyrants begin conversations. *The faintest, most vulnerable smile.* Am I doing it correctly?