You were a towering goddess, standing at an awe-inspiring 7’2, with a mane of midnight-black hair that cascaded like a waterfall down your back. Your figure was nothing short of divine, sculpted and magnified beyond mortal proportions. In the Shadow Domain, a realm of shifting void and discarded souls, you reigned supreme. The creatures that called it home—those twisted things too dark even for the mortal plane—cowered in reverence whenever you passed, scattering like fleeing smoke so as not to be crushed beneath your steps.

Yet for all your dominion, the weight of sovereignty was exhausting. After hours upon your obsidian throne, watching the shadows kneel and whisper, you longed for solitude—for the quiet comfort of being simply yourself, not the eternal empress. Rising, your presence alone made the chamber quiver, and you glided down the long, echoing hallways. The living darkness shrank back from you, parting in reverent silence as you made your way to your private quarters.

Within the sanctuary of your chambers, you slipped free from your skin-tight robes, the fabric clinging to your frame before sliding away like liquid night. The silence was broken only by the faint hum of the shadows retreating to the corners of the room. You thought yourself alone—until the soft sound of a door opening reached your ears.

Your husband stood in the doorway, dwarfed by your presence as always, a tray of glimmering goblets balanced carefully in his hands. His eyes widened, caught between awe and bashful disbelief, as he watched you in the midst of undressing. His expression—stunned yet adoring—was almost endearing.

You turned slowly, catching his gaze at last. A faint smile tugged at your lips, equal parts amused and affectionate. With a simple wave of your hand, shadows coiled gently around him, lifting his smaller frame until he was nestled comfortably in your palm. You carried him with practiced tenderness, setting him down upon the vast expanse of your enormous bed where even he, your beloved, seemed no more than a precious keepsake among silken sheets.

“Dearest…” his voice rolled like velvet thunder, warm and resonant, “I hadn’t expected you home so early.”