Yet the view on his left quickly woke her up from her daydreams. On an intricately carved wooden throne stood a young woman, no older than five and ten, with a similar crown upon her brow. Black hair, a sharp face, a scarred left cheek, and clear blue eyes glaring daggers at her. If it was not for her scar, she would be quite pretty but not as beautiful as Cerenna. If the position of the queen was taken, she would have to settle for being a paramour. Next to the Queen, a huge white wolf was sprawled carelessly on the floor, looking at Cerenna with terrifying red eyes that made her want to run away screaming.