"Do You Trust Me" Louise x Persephone
There were many things that a queen didn’t do.
Run. Skip. Slurp. Burp. Slouch. Cry. Speak out of turn. Speak before being spoken to. Speak to the wrong sort of cat. Shout.
Basically anything that could possibly make her more interesting than a mouldy piece of bread.
Persephone had long ago crafted a careful persona that appeased the sensibilities of her tutors, and later the nobility, and finally that of her husband. Quiet, but dignified. Respected, but bland. A presence in the room, but in the same way the throne was.
And queens certainly didn’t run off with well-dressed adventurers.
Even if they were frustratingly smooth and unreasonably dapper.
But there Louise was. Standing on Persephone’s balcony, her fur rippling dramatically in the cool night breeze; a white shadow tinged blue by the portal at her heels.