(I didn't know if you wanted to do the queen or not, I kind of just went for it. If you'd like to take over, be my guest.)
The queen's self-declared colors – a rich forest green, a slightly off-white cream tone, and a dazzling gold – covered every square inch of her throne room. The throne itself was gold and seated upon it, the queen wore a green gown with black filigree along the sleeves and adorned a fine gold crown among her mane of dark brown hair. Her icy blue eyes bore into Farah as she approached, and a glint of either pleasure or pride – Farah couldn't tell – flashed across her face.
"Lady Dowling," she announced, using her most queenly tone to project her authority. "I see you have returned before my throne, yet again successful."
"I have yet to disappoint you, my queen," Farah replied with practiced ease. "And I did not plan to today."
The queen lifted her chin in acknowledgment. "You have returned with a prisoner?"
"Indeed." Farah tossed Atria only a few feet in front of her. Usually, she'd force people all the way up to the foot of the queen's throne, but she promised to stay close to Atria and it was another way of proving her trust.
Fortunately, the queen didn't even seem to notice. She straightened into an even more upright position, coiled anticipation rising inside her. "Wonderful," she purred, her gaze sharpening and taking in Atria's appearence.