Golden light speared through the tall and narrow windows of the imperial throne room. Dust otherwise unseen glinted like sparkling snow when it floated through the slits of sunlight crisscrossing across the floors and walls. Crimson standard flags hung from every other wooden pillar of the large and imposing room. Each banner bore the crest of the Kavashian Empire and its First Empress—who was myself, naturally—the snarling head of a tiger, eyes wide and round, ears clearly forward and focused. My throne displayed the same visage on top of the high backed seat, the high armrests and clawed legs made to resemble a tiger's large paws.

I turned away from studying the green patterned tapestry set up behind my throne and faced my guard captain, who held his prisoner by the back of his throat.

My guard captain was a fine specimen of a reptilian beastfolk. He was a serpent, to be exact. His skin was a sage green and the scales around his neck, eyes, and arms were a vibrant veridian. His wide orange-red eyes stared unblinking down onto the human by his feet.

"Why is there a human in my throne room, Osil?" I asked, sitting down on the red velvet cushions of my throne and crossing my legs. I took a moment to study Osil's prisoner, my keen nose twitching as I sniffed the air.

I could smell the hints of recently applied hair dye on him; sulfur, lead, and indigo. His straight hair was as long as mine, reaching his lower back, and was dyed a dark blue.

His complexion was pallid, giving him a most unpleasant sickly appearance. His body, too, was far too skinny for my liking. He was clothed in the livery and finery of an archmage. Deep blue and purple velvet robes gave the illusion of a willowy frame while hiding most of his skin. Rings of silver, amethysts, and sapphires sparkled on his fingers. Matching earrings and necklaces dangled off of his esteemed personage, the pendants were small tinkling diamonds attached to delicate chains.

Peering down at his long dark eyelashes framing deep blue eyes, cupid bow pale pink lips, straight eyebrows and nose, I found him quite handsome overall, underneath the stink of sulfur and a poor diet.

"He was sent by royal entourage to our gates, and insisted on being seen by you," my guard captain answered. He held out an envelope with a deep bow. "He claims that this is for your eyes only, Your Majesty. It doesn't appear to contain anything harmful."

I held the letter between two fingers, flipping it over as I rested my cheek against my knuckles.

The wax seal was a brilliant azure, flecks of gold leaf scattered throughout. The insignia pressed upon the cooled wax was of a four-winged griffon holding a sword in one taloned claw and a scale in the other.

"What country does this insignia belong to, again?" I pondered my own question, studying the seal a moment longer before I struck it through with my middle claw. "I can't think of any respectable neighbors who would hoist a stranger upon me with no fair warning."

"I am Fairan, Your Majesty, and I come on behalf of the royal family of the Nyxian Kingdom." The human before me spoke up for himself, and I raised one eyebrow. I stared him down, knowing that my yellow eyes glowed in the shade cast upon my face. Yet, he did not lower himself, and even dared to meet my gaze. My round and striped ear flicked. Feeling a bit nonplussed, I snapped open the letter. In an elaborate, neat hand something truly ridiculous was scrawled onto the paper. The words weren't even worth the parchment.

Empress Chesire, your neighbors from the Nyxian kingdom greet you. As per our discussion last you graced us with your illustrious presence, we have sent my eldest son, Fairan, as a candidate for Emperor consort. Please reconsider our offer of alliance, I beg of you. Signed, King Samuel II.

At least he remembered to forgo the irritating way royalty were expected to address themselves. How preposterous it was, to speak as if you were the whole of a country, instead of the first cogwheel of the inner workings of a nation.

I slipped off my throne, flipped my vibrant orange hair over my shoulders, and approached the human who'd been abandoned to my mercy. I snatched up his chin in my claws, drawing a bit of sweet smelling blood.

"You've been thrown into the tiger's den, haven't you little prince? Why would the king send his eldest son, and not his second born? By the hells, I wouldn't be surprised if he sent a princess to be my bride."

"We're the same age," Fairan pointed out, cheeks squished between my fingertips. "Other than that, I can't speak for my father. He ordered me to marry you, so marry you I shall."

His heartbeat remained steady, and there was no salt in the air from perspiration. I couldn't help but be a little impressed at his audacity to maintain eye contact with me.

I'd gained a reputation as a ruthless general as well as a shrewd diplomat during the campaign to unify all beastfolk. I'd heard tales of how I drank the blood of my enemies and other such nonsense over the years since. It was all preposterous of course. I only ate raw meat on occasion, and never the flesh, or blood, of people. By all accounts it was expected that he'd be shaking and cowering so close to my regal visage, but he remained steadfast with ease, no matter how much I stared him down.

"And if I don't want you?" I whispered, leaning closer until our foreheads almost touched.

"I've been ordered to use any means necessary to make you accept me as your consort, Your Majesty."

"You mean to tell me that your noble father has resorted to whoring his children out to any power that makes him a bit nervous?" I scoffed, let go of his chin, and pressed down on his shoulder instead. "Kneel then, if you're so determined to seduce me, your royal highness."

I waved Osil away, a silent order to release the prince and stand back, which he immediately obeyed. Fairan glowered at me, to which I merely tilted my head and waited. First one knee was bent to the ground, and then the other. The would-be-consort lowered his gaze only briefly as he got down on his knees, the silk he wore catching on the wood paneled floor. I snorted and tossed the letter into Fairan's lap as I turned away.

"Osil, politely escort his royal highness out of the palace, and send his royal procession on their way back home. Let King Samuel have his final answer by making sure Prince Fairan leaves with them."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Osil answered with a deep bow, hands folded in front of his face.

"Your Majesty!" Fairan cried out, holding the letter up in his hand. "I can't accept this!"

"You can, and you will. Do not debase yourself by bowing to power. Should I ever seek a mate, it will be with someone with pride that matches my own. Perhaps it will do your father some good in knowing that I cannot love someone who has no respect for themselves."

I spoke the truth, and sincerely hoped that King Samuel III would finally accept my answer. As if being hounded with absurd alliance proposals during my diplomatic visit last year wasn't bad enough. Now he was forcing me to be rude to get my point across.

"Really," I grumbled to myself as my guard captain dragged the fussing human outside. "I could be persuaded to take a human mate or two for the sake of easing tensions, but that fool of a king is so heavy handed and selfish. At least Adellias's ruler kept to polite conversation during the holy celebration banquet."

I sighed and rubbed at my head while I listened to Fairan's arguments fade away from the throne room. I desperately needed a nap in the sun, or a good swim.

Deciding on the former, I left the throne room at a leisurely pace. I had already finished hearing about affairs of the state from my advisors, generals, and the fairly recently renamed Assembly of Elders, as well as a few Clan Chiefs that had been in attendance. In short, it had been a very average, very boring, and very long day. I was eager to put the most recent diplomatic failure of King Samuel's out of my mind and enjoy some time soaking up the sun.

My favorite spot was in the palace library, in an alcove with a custom stained glass window that I had designed myself. It depicted Akabane Natsuki in profile with a scroll in one hand, and a pair of scales in the other, all in yellow, gold, orange, and red glass.

Natsuki had always enjoyed reading and art. He'd tried to coax a love of both into me, but I found that I had only the talent and disposition for art. We'd spend our few leisurely evenings together in his personal library. Natsuki reading from a scroll or foreign book, and I sketching or painting. It had seemed only right that I create at least a few immortal visages of him and keep them in his favorite places to rest.

When the palace was being built, my criteria had been so slim I heard that the architect had three meltdowns during the process of design and construction.

"I must have ample sunshine, a large pool to swim in, and a stain glass in the library that I will make myself," I'd told the stout little Deer Clansman that had stood before my throne. My cheek balanced on my knuckles, I had watched with vague disinterest as the architect had trembled.

"But the style, the size, Your Majesty," the deerfolk insisted in a wavering voice.

"Ah, yes. Just do whatever you like otherwise."

"Your Majesty, please have mercy on this humble servant!"

Eventually a few of my advisors had squeezed out of me the only other preference I had; that perhaps I might like to live in a palace with the aesthetics of the Fox Clan in mind. It apparently didn't help very much, and I was told that anxious people like the architect prefer clear instructions. And here I'd thought freedom was an artist's boon. Regardless, in the end my three requests and style preference were enough to get them to stop coming to me for approval of every little design choice.

Thus, the palace was a series of orderly one story buildings interconnected by stone roads or outdoor corridors and sectioned off with walls. Most of it sat empty, as half of the palace was built with imperial polygamy in mind. Yet, I hadn't taken a single consort. I had been joking that day I said I wanted many mates, but no one could tell. The next thing I knew, situations like today's had started happening, and I had an empty palace that was far too large.

I shook off my inner musings once I'd reached the library. After Natsuki's death, I'd started reminiscing more and more about the past. I never used to be one for nostalgia until I lost Natsuki.

I waved off the imperial scholars that dotted the forest of bookcases, who all bowed despite the fact that it was I who was intruding upon their natural habitat. I meandered my way through the maze, knowing the route to my unspoken spot by heart. A breath of relief flooded out of my lungs when I finally reached it.

There Natsuki was, calm and at peace. Sometimes I'd dream of him, bathed in that golden and vermilion glow. We'd talk like we used to, about philosophy and nothing at all. Memories, imagined ways he'd praise my efforts, and of course the dreaded nightmares. His insults, his rage, his dissatisfaction, all my fears of what he'd think of how I'd united the clans manifested in a prison of my own mind.

I knelt down on a red satin cushion by a low square table, arranged perfectly so I could sunbathe near the end of the day. I struck a stick of sandalwood and myrrh incense on an ignition stone, then placed it in the burner. Laying my aching head on the table, I closed my stinging eyes and breathed in the scent of Natsuki.