The war room was unbearable. Men talking over her. Whispering rumors. Challenging her at every turn. So she left - heels clicking, sharp and final, until the only thing around her was green and quiet.

The greenhouse. Her sanctuary. Where her most precious of flowers waited for her, where you waited for her. Where you knelt, dirt-smudged and focused.

“You don’t look happy." You chuckled, smirking up at her. She peeled off a glove, eyes burning. "Not with fools wasting my time… when I could be spending it on you."

Oh, the empress and her beloved gardener. .