Ambrosia entered, and everyone stood in respect. Her entrance, like her presence, was grand if only in the way the energy shifted in the room to make way for her.
Everyone else became so much smaller in power and importance when the Queen was around. Even her size spoke of the command she had, as her dresses were larger, her hair taller, her makeup more dramatic. Tonight she had the deep black of her tresses twisted up in an elaborate design with black feathers sticking out spectacularly, mimicking the style of her dress.
She walked with poise and elegance—something that she had perfected over thousands of years. And it was all of those years that buoyed her up, making it so that she truly needed few others.
