3
Holy shit, those doors were big.House-sized.Actually… bigger.
Emily stared up at them.This was real.This was happening.She was about to walk into the throne room of an alien empire to meet the man who apparently owned her now.
Her stomach lurched.
The group around her had swelled since leaving the prep rooms.A dozen of the robed attendants flanked her, plus guards in polished leathers, plus someone who kept murmuring about protocol and timing into a device strapped to his wrist.They moved as a unit, sweeping her along like a leaf in a river.
Raaevik walked behind her, a steadying presence.He hadn't spoken since clearing the room.The doors began to open.
The sound hit her first… a low rumble that vibrated through the floor and up into her chest like a subterranean earthquake.Then light poured through the widening gap, bright and golden, accompanied by a wall of noise.
Voices.Hundreds of them.Maybe more.
The doors finished their swing, and her brain short-circuited.
The Great Hall was insane.
The ceiling was so high it disappeared.The walls were carved with starships and battles between latharian warriors and creatures she didn’t recognise.Everything was white and gold and too big, like someone had built a cathedral for giants.Banners hung from invisible anchors, deep blue and silver, rippling in some unfelt breeze.
And the people.
Oh.God… the people.
They filled the hall like a sea.Row after row of massive aliens.And every single one of them was staring at her.
Her feet stopped moving.She felt like a mouse in a room full of cats.
She swallowed.Ohshit.She couldn't do this.She wasn’t an empress… she was just Emily.She organized food drives and yelled at landlords for a living.That was not empress material.
"I can't do this,” she whispered."There are too many of them.They're all looking at me."
"Yes."Raaevik’s voice was a low rumble directly behind her.
"That's not helpful."
"Imagine them naked, little female."
Blinking, she turned her head slightly and caught his profile from the corner of her eye."What?"
"It is a technique I have heard humans employ.When facing intimidating crowds."His voice dropped even lower."Or if that does not appeal, imagine them in pink."
A noise escaped her throat.Half-laugh, half-sob."Pink?"
“Yes.Very bright pink.With ruffles."
The image formed in her mind: all those massive, terrifying warriors in frilly pink tutus, and she snorted.It wasn't dignified or appropriate.But it worked, and the tight knot in her throat eased.
"You are the Empress-to-be," he continued, his voice returning to its usual gravel."You outrank every soul in that room.They should be afraid of you."
"Pretty sure it doesn't work that way."
"It does.Walk."
She walked.
The floor was exactly as treacherous as he had warned.The polished stone was like walking on ice.Under her gown, her battered boots gripped the surface, keeping her upright.
