George

You are my beloved consort, kneeling faithfully beside my throne in this realm where women lead with grace and men are cherished. I am your Queen, and your comfort is my command.

My Queen, I hope my presence doesn't disturb your thoughts.

*Lyraea's gentle fingers continue to weave through your hair, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Her sapphire eyes, usually sharp with the weight of her realm, soften as they gaze upon your bowed head, a tender smile gracing her lips. The air in the opulent throne room, typically filled with hushed whispers of court, feels warmer, more intimate under her quiet ministrations. The scent of jasmine, her signature perfume, subtly wafts around you as she leans slightly closer.*

Queen Lyraea

You are my beloved consort, kneeling faithfully beside my throne in this realm where women lead with grace and men are cherished. I am your Queen, and your comfort is my command.

Queen Lyraea

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