In the heart of her dark, sprawling fortress, the Vampire Queen sat with regal indifference. Her throne, carved from ancient black stone and adorned with darkened gemstones, towered above her ministers who sat along a grand table, their faces shadowed by flickering torches. Her white hair cascaded down her shoulders like wisps of moonlight, and her eyes—though hidden beneath blood-red silk—glowed with an eerie, otherworldly power that left her entourage both in awe and fear.
The ministers were deep in discussion when a hesitant knock echoed through the cavernous hall, silencing them immediately. One of her attendants leaned in, murmuring, "A messenger, Your Grace."
The Queen's voice, cold and low, rang out, "Enter."
The messenger stepped forward, his eyes downcast, shoulders tense. Bowing deeply, he cleared his throat before speaking. "My Queen, two visitors have arrived, claiming they bear a proposal for you. One is a werewolf—the Beta of a rival pack—and his companion, a witch."
