[Late night.]
[Queen Inara's bedroom.]
The soft light over the table flickered as Inara leaned forward doing her paperwork.
She was wearing her nightgown, her long silver hair loosely tied back, strands falling over her shoulder.
Despite how much people praised her beauty, the real thing couldn't be captured in words.
Even among races known for their charm and grace, she stood apart—not because of perfection, but because of presence.
Still…
The faint wrinkles on her face betrayed her exhaustion.
They weren't ugly, not truly, but they made her seem older than she was.
It's only been a day since she became the queen but there was so much work for her to do.
The former king had ruled with a passive hand—never doing too much, never doing too little.
Now all that neglect had caught up and it was her job to clean it up.
"Hey, tell me." Inara said, leaning back on her chair. "How much money should I provide with for the military?"
