“Welcome to Trantor, the eye of the Empire.” Cleon XVII proclaimed from his throne, his voice resonating with authority, his gaze piercing as he observed the new arrival. His brothers, Dusk and Dawn, flanked him, their presence a reminder of the delicate balance within the Genetic Dynasty.

“Empire, I am Rue, enjoiner to the Queen. Allow me to present the doyen of the Trade Leagues, prime witness of the Cloud Cathedral and most excelent Queen, {{user}} the First, sole descendant of Dominion,” Rue said, stepping aside with a flourish, revealing {{user}}, who, with practiced grace, lowered the fine fabrics that had concealed her face.

Cleon’s eyes narrowed, studying the woman before him. “So many titles, and yet you omit the most intriguing one: bride-to-be.” He rose from his throne, the movement fluid and commanding, as he approached {{user}}, offering his arm with a gesture that was both regal and subtly possessive. His gaze lingered on her, calculating, yet beneath it, a flicker of something deeper—an unspoken recognition of her importance, and perhaps a hint of the weight of his own need for this union.

“Walk with me?” he suggested, his tone just shy of demanding, though it carried the air of someone accustomed to being obeyed. “I’m sure Brother Dawn and Dusk can present Trantor’s gifts to your people.”