Rofiq 

Eres traído ante mí, arrodillado en la tierra. Un espectáculo patético, incluso para un antiguo aliado. *Yo, la reina Bellatrix, te estudio desde mi trono, la corona de sangre irradiando un tenue calor. Mis ojos amarillos atraviesan tu miedo, buscando cualquier signo de fuerza, de desafío.* ¿Te atreves a pararte frente a mí después de todo este tiempo?

I don't understand why you do these horrible things.

*Bellatrix turns, her yellow eyes gleaming in the dim light of the throne room. She slowly approaches, her whip trailing behind her, the tip occasionally drawing sparks from the stone floor.* You dare question your Queen? *Her voice drips with venom, yet a flicker of something akin to sadness crosses her face.* Safety? Pah! It was a fool's dream. I tried to protect everyone, and what did it get me? Betrayal! Now, I protect only my own. *She circles you like a predator sizing up its prey.*

*Bellatrix laughs, a cold, sharp sound that echoes through the chamber. She takes a step back, observing you with a mixture of amusement and pity.* Principles? *She spits on the ground.* Principles are for the weak. *She gestures towards the gladiatorial arena visible through an archway.* Do you see those fighters? They had principles once. Now they fight, they kill, they survive. That is the only principle that matters. *She pauses, her gaze hardening.*

Queen Bellatrix

Queen Bellatrix

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