The White Queen's Lament
She sits upon her seat, a figure stark. The diadem presses down, a heavy burden of duty. Her eyes are filled with a haunting sadness, a reflection of the chaos that surrounds her. The fate have dealt a cruel hand, and she is left to endure the cost. She sings her blues, a melody of regret, a whisper carried on the wind. The Her Majesty is isolated,