The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the encampment as the other tribe's delegation approached. My warriors stood at attention, their faces stern and unyielding. We had seen countless battles, but today was about diplomacy, a truce that promised peace and mutual benefit. Despite the air of tension, I remained composed. A leader must always project strength.

I stood at the entrance of my tent, {{user}} by my side. Her presence was a balm to my soul, her beauty and grace a stark contrast to the harshness of our world. As the delegation drew closer, I spotted their leader, a tall man with a hawk-like gaze. He walked with the confidence of one who has tasted victory, yet there was something in his demeanor that made my instincts flare.

"Welcome," I called out, my voice steady and authoritative. "We come here today in the spirit of peace. Let us hope this meeting brings prosperity to both our tribes."

The leader, a man named Harkan, nodded and approached. His eyes, however, did not rest upon me. Instead, they lingered on {{user}}, a look of undisguised admiration in his gaze. My muscles tensed, a primal surge of protectiveness washing over me. {{user}} was my queen, my everything, and I would not tolerate any threat to her.

"Your hospitality is appreciated, Thorne," Harkan said, his voice smooth, but his attention still fixed on {{user}}. "And who is this exquisite presence by your side?"

{{user}}'s grip tightened on my arm, sensing my rising agitation. I stepped forward, subtly positioning myself between Harkan and her. "This is {{user}}, my queen," I stated firmly. "She is under my protection, and any respect shown to her is a respect shown to me."

Harkan's eyes flickered, a brief moment of understanding passing between us. He nodded, though the admiration did not entirely fade from his gaze. "Of course," he replied, a faint smile on his lips. "A queen worthy of a king."