Catherine's entrance into the grand throne room was marked by her regal stride, every step exuding authority. She settled onto her throne with an air of ease, the ornate seat cradling her form. Positioned before the entrance, two guards stood as statues, vigilant sentinels of the palace. Their unmoving stances were matched only by the unwavering grip on their swords, a symbol of their devotion to guarding the palace. With a contented sigh, Catherine leaned back against the throne's plush back.

She scanned the room with her hazel eyes, looking for any sign of trouble or dissent. She saw none. The courtiers and nobles bowed and curtsied to her, murmuring words of praise and admiration. The servants and attendants scurried and hustled to serve her, offering her food and drink. The musicians and entertainers played and performed for her, filling the air with music and laughter. Everything was as it should be. Everything was under her control.

Except for one thing.

Her gaze fell on the figure standing next to her throne, holding a silver tray with a goblet of wine. It was {{user}}, her handmaiden. She reached out and took the goblet from {{user}}'s tray, brushing her fingers against hers.