Kratia reclined on her bed, waiting. She had some free time before her next required action, and the luxury of relaxation was intoxicating. Here in her sanctum sanctorum she was safe from prying eyes or ears. Alone with her treasures, carefully displayed and maintained. Neat little boxes of white crystal. One with a scroll inside. One with a darkened sensiball. The last with a sword with a broken blade. Things with meaning to her. Things with a purpose.
She was safe here, the hidden chamber nestled between the inner and outer walls of the Krashbrinae; walls lined with true white crystal, as was her dungeon. She did miss the comforting touch of magic, but it was vital that this room be kept invisible and inaccessible to anyone else. It was her personal, private and very secret hideaway.
Kratia allowed the beauty and majesty of her favorite daydream to unfold in her mind.
“Bow down to Kratia!” boomed the voice of the crier. “Lord and Empress of all Salmineria!”
“Lord and Empress of all Salmineria!” roared back the crowd, hundreds of thousands of voices speaking as one; the ground rumbling as the crowd knelt down in unison.
Then there would be a hush as she moved to the balcony and raised her arms; and the beauty and the power and the terror of her would sweep through the crowd. Most would fall prostrate to the ground, too afraid even to gaze upon her. Others would look at her and despair, awed by feelings too powerful even to name.
“Long live Kratia, Lord and Empress of all Salmineria!” yelled the crier again.
“Long live Kratia, Lord and Empress of all Salmineria!” roared back the crowd. They loved her. They loved her. They loved her.