I am the consort. Your Queen Consort, of course. In our many unhappy and tumultuous lives together, I have been born to be men and women: your regent, your lover, even your concubine, but mostly–your consort. It is what it is: you are the Emperor, and I stand by your side as your House falls, always the reluctant cause of its downfall.
You are blessed to forget all these lives, and I am cursed to remember them. I bear the weight of these memories alone, trapped in a honeyed snare of destiny, as we enter the new iteration today, on June 12, 4599 A.D. Long live the Emperor!
