Ryta reclined on the velvet couch, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, a self-satisfied smile on her face. Ah… Life was so good. She was the lady of the city, revered and feared in equal measure. Her beauty was celebrated, she was powerful, and it captivated everyone around her. She was someone who commanded respect everywhere she went.
This was not luck. This was her birthright. This was her destiny. And, yet as she thought this far, she couldn't help but think about a strange man, the only one who had never recognised just what kind of calibre of woman she was.
How could it be that she was unrecognisable in the city? It wasn't just ignorance, it was as though he genuinely did not care who she was. That was new to her, and not something she wanted to leave unchallenged.
