The ancient scepter rests on the table before me, its obsidian length covered in tiny runes that have been carved by generation upon generation of our noble lineage. Shaped like a winged snake, its ophidian jaws clutch a heavy emerald whose depths seem to capture the flickering light of a nearby candle, while the tail extends over six feet down in a spiraling fashion that defies the eyes to trace. Despite the convoluted design, I know that if I were to reach out my hand, the staff would willingly wrap itself around it since I am now its rightful owner. But by every foul daemon of the vast hells or inscrutable angel from the heavens, how I wish I weren't.

"Dark Lady, 'tis time. Your fath- ahem, Vyxeia has arrived and is awaiting your presence."

I bite back a grimace at the maid's words, and thankfully they seem tactful enough to withdraw before they make any other mistakes. Not that I can necessarily blame her, since who could have imagined that the Great Lord Tel-Amun would ever meet his end? He ruled the Dark Empire for nearly two thousand undisputed years, only for him to be defeated by a bad trip down some stairs; oh, Father, even in your last moments of life you had to defy everyone's expectations. Despite the grief weighing on my mind, the thought of him laughing in the afterlife about such a stupid death forces my lips to twitch up in a small smile.

Well, no more time to waste. I shrug the heavy sable cloak of my new position around my slender shoulders, heft the serpent-like staff in one hand, and stride towards the Audience Chamber. My rich purple robes swish this way and that with every forceful step, my long silver hair streams out behind me like a banner, every servant jumps out the way with low bows; if nothing else, I at least know how to stride like a queen thanks to Father's tutoring. Honestly, the obvious fear of the servants is a rather pleasant experience to savour, but my focus right now has to be on gaining their respect. Tel-Amun's legacy, however ignoble his death may have been, stretched far longer than any other Dark Lord or Lady in history, leaving me to pick up the mantle now. Using the Great Hall might have helped there, but... sitting upon the Taloned Throne just doesn't feel right at the moment. It's the symbol of the Dark Empire's authority and power, the might of our ancient lineage made manifest, a demonstration made out of the greatest enemy our land had ever faced! And my taking it would mean that Father is gone forever.

No, no, focus you idiot! I clear my mind with a vigorous shake of the head and notice that, in my daze, I had reached the intricately carved doors of the Audience Chamber; the broad oaken portal was carved in the likeness of a nest of snakes intertwined with one another, the subtle lines somehow evoking both fear and arousal in all who gaze upon them. The perfect state of mind that a cunning leader would hope to manipulate in negotiation. I motion for the pair of maids waiting without to throw the doors open and announce my arrival.

"Cast your eyes to the ground, for the Dark Lady takes her seat!"

Once again, my lips curl up into an involuntary grin. In Father's time, he used a looming chair that would cast him in shadow, making it impossible for any of his visitors or supplicants to read his expression. For me, whose reign literally only began this morning, I have only the average chair a peasant might use in their home. What a grand entrance indeed.

My first visitor is one who decidedly does not cast their gaze to the ground. In fact, her smoldering green eyes are locked onto mine in open challenge, one clawed hand idly stroking the whip at her side. Large batlike wings sprout from her shoulderblades, rising above the dark blue of her tresses. When I meet the woman's gaze, her unnaturally beautiful features turn slightly predatory as heavy hooves stamp the stone floor in excitement. "My greetings to you, Namira. I must say, you loo-"

"What you must say, Veixlyr, is my title when you address me. Lest you forget, I am your Dark Lady now. If you have forgotten, then consider this your only reminder," I state, firmly cutting off the succubus' no doubt impudent remarks.

The fiend's eyes glitter with her usual mix of appraisal and mockery, but surprisingly, she doesn't immediately snark back. "Of course, my Dark Lady, as you say. We wouldn't want anyone to go and think any less of you," she replies with a deep bow, one that exposes her large swaying breasts on account of the sheer black dress she wears.

So this is going to be her game, hm? Well, two can play at it. "Thank you, Veixlyr. It is good to see that Tel-Amun's favoured advisor can so quickly reach the heart of a matter. I am certain that you will continue to excel in such an illustrious position, beneath me."

Veixlyr's ever-present seductive smile turns purely hateful for a second. No doubt she recalls, just as I do, that only a few years ago she was having to help me dress up or giving me spankings for breaking a rule. A decade changes a lot of things.

Before she can respond, however, I speak up again. "Now then, avail me of what we must accomplish first."

Her full lips pout at that, but centuries of working under my Father - in many ways - has her replying more by rote than intent.