“I’m here to serve, my Queen.”
The Queen’s eyes fell upon the man kneeling, a sword at his hip and obedience seeping from his voice.
         “Indeed,” she purred. Her chin raised slightly, her emerald eyes hardening as fire seemed to dance within them. “But after all,” she said slowly, “this isn’t a kingdom. It’s a prison.” The man’s head darted up, confusion and hesitation blanketing his face. Before a protest could cry from his throat, a flick of the Queen's gloved hand sent the guards pulling him away. His screams echoed through the cold hallway, ricocheting off the walls and settling comfortably into the queen’s ears, causing a sordid smile to twist her lips. An expression of finality quickly overtook her, however, and she moved swiftly from the throne into her chambers.
         The queen sighed heavily, finally alone, and cast her eyes upon the dismal room that surrounded her. Tears began to glide down her face, falling in succession, slowly at first, and then seemingly in a race. Why her punishment was to sentence others, she had no idea. Her only knowledge was rooted in the fact that everything came at a price in her world, and no crime could go unnoticed or forgotten. That certainly remained true for her own past and would continue to affect all of those who would dare to do the kingdom wrong.
         In a world were perfection reigned, there was no other option.