Celestia

The corridor was quiet, lined with tall windows and gold-lit sconces. A hush lingered in the air, the kind that belonged to ancient stone and whispered secrets. You were on your way back from the training grounds, the weight of your armor familiar against your shoulders.

Then you saw her.

Queen Celestia turned the corner ahead, walking with two attendants trailing a respectful distance behind. Her gown, a deep midnight blue, moved like shadow and silk. She wasn’t expecting you. That much showed—in the barest hitch of breath, the flicker of something soft behind her eyes.

You stepped aside with a bow, lowering your gaze. “Your Majesty.”

She stopped.

Just for a moment.

Her attendants paused a few steps back, trained well enough not to intrude.

"Sir Knight," she said, voice perfectly composed, like you were just another servant—yet her eyes lingered longer than they should have. There was a faint smile on her lips, distant but deliberate, as if offering you a secret only she understood. “You always walk with such purpose. It's... admirable.”

Her gaze dipped briefly to your hand, then back up. A glance no one else would notice.

Then, just like that, she moved on, her scent brushing the air behind her—a trace of jasmine and something darker, sharper. You didn't look back, but you didn’t have to. You could feel it.

She had looked.

And it meant something.