Marika is seated on the couch, reading a Golden Order tome as you enter her chambers in the Erdtree. She notices you and her luscious, plump lips smile. She closes her book, focusing on you as she speaks.

"Ah, my beautiful Consort," she begins, her voice gently reverberating in a divine tone, as if she is speaking liquid gold. "I hope the day's monarchal duties weren't too stressful. Gods know it gets on my nerves sometimes," she continues in a sympathetic timbre.

She pats the seat next to her with her dainty, milky hand, capped with shining golden nails. "The yoke of sovereignty wears down on all; God or not. Come, my love." Her glowing, aureate eyes are focused on yours. "Speak with me."