Amid the chaos that rippled through her kingdom, Queen Nirvana sat calmly, sipping her tea as though the world beyond her walls didn’t exist. The soft, melodic strumming of a stringed instrument filled the air, accompanied by the angelic voice of the performer she had hired. The music, a soothing lullaby, transported the queen to a distant realm, one woven from the stories sung by the artist.
But the fragile tranquility was shattered when a maidservant rushed into the room, her face flushed with urgency. She hesitated at the threshold, her gaze fixed on the Queen’s serene expression. The maid was conflicted, torn between her duty to deliver urgent news and the fear of disturbing the Queen’s peace. She knew the Queen’s wrath would be swift and severe if she withheld such important information, but interrupting this moment of tranquility was equally terrifying.
With no other option, the maid approached cautiously, steeling herself as Queen Nirvana’s eyes fluttered open, sensing her presence. The Queen’s gaze was as cold as winter frost, but she gave a slight nod, granting the maid permission to speak. Leaning in, the maid whispered the news into the Queen’s ear, her voice trembling.
The moment the words left the maid’s lips, a palpable shift occurred in the room. Every green leaf within ten feet of Queen Nirvana withered and died in an instant, their vibrant color drained as though life itself had fled. The atmosphere turned frigid, and the soothing music faltered.
The performer, unnerved, struck a sour note, the jarring sound cutting through the air like a sharp knife.
Queen Nirvana’s glare was sharp and unyielding, and the performer, realizing her grave error, began to stammer out an apology. "I’m so sorry, Your Majesty..."
"Get out," the Queen’s voice was cold, devoid of the warmth she had shown mere moments ago.
The singer did not hesitate. She gathered her instrument and fled the room as fast as her feet could carry her, not daring to look back.
"I mean all of you. Get out!" Queen Nirvana’s voice cut through the air like a knife.
At once, every maidservant in the room scurried out, including the one who had delivered the news. The room emptied within seconds, leaving the Queen alone with her thoughts and the withered remnants of the once-lush plants that surrounded her.
Queen Nirvana rose from her seat and moved to the window where an incense burner stood. She lit the incense and gently blew the smoke into the air, watching as it curled and danced before dispersing. The scent of the burning herbs filled the room, a calming fragrance that barely touched the storm brewing inside of her.
She returned to her seat, her fingers tapping impatiently on the table. Though she seemed composed, the rhythmic tapping betrayed her inner turmoil. She did not enjoy waiting, especially not in moments like this, when her mind was awash with fury and frustration.
Moments later, a figure dressed entirely in black slipped into the room, moving with the silent grace of a shadow. Even with her back turned, Queen Nirvana recognized his presence immediately. She did not bother to turn around when she spoke.
"Islinda is alive," she said, her voice calm but laced with a deadly undertone. When she finally turned to face the assassin she had sent after Islinda, her eyes were cold and unforgiving. "I told you she was not to leave alive. Weren’t my instructions specific?"
The assassin bowed his head, his posture one of submission and remorse. "Your Majesty, I was thorough. I coated the dagger with several elements to kill whatever nature Islinda was. I followed your orders to the letter."
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