She found herself in the middle of a great hall with five beautiful women beside her. They were wearing beautiful gowns, jewelry, and headdresses. "Where am I?" Venus asked herself.
"Your Majesty, these are the royal princesses; their parents sent them to pay tributes to you for stopping the war. You may choose your queen, and the rest will be your tribute women," an old man said.
A man in royal garb was sitting on his throne. He wasn't handsome in a pretty way, but in a powerfully masculine way—in a way that separates a wolf from a puppy. He was a beautiful man for her—a strong, dominant male. Dark in contrast to her creamy skin, yet with features that needed nothing to enhance them
Their eyes met, and he looked at her intensely. She looked back. She was nothing to be afraid of or ashamed of. She checked this vessel through the mirror moments ago, and she found her looks satisfactory.
