Raindrops pattered on the window bringing the serenity of the silence along with it. The Ambrosia enjoyed her fresh tea made specifically for her. The scent of the tea engulfed the drawing room she was sitting in. Rather than indulging in men and blood, she chose to take a brush again and paint her dreams that frequently visited her.
She was sitting all alone, in a spacious room as if time had stopped. Nothing moved. Even servants weren't allowed in. For everyone, she was the cruel Empress who didn't bat an eye at killing anyone one but herself, she was a mother grieving her son. She hated humans because it was a human who pulled her son away from her. The creatures one looked down upon the most might be the one to stab one's heart.
