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The throne was too big for her, of course, it was meant for Him, he who was taller, and more...real. More Him than she could ever hope to be. Her nostrils flared as she stared down at the cane He had left behind.

"Do you miss him, Hasky?" Her voice wasn't His. It wasn't right. It didn't fit. The older man turned to face her with one brow raised.

"My lady, with all due respect, my name is Haskill." 

"Yesss....you keep telling me that. Hmm, well, you didn't answer my question." She responded, leaning in toward her servant with her weight on the cane. Haskill sighed.

"I suppose. You don't work for someone for thousands of years and simply forget their presence." 

"I think I miss him too. Is that what it is, the empty void in my gut? Should I find a different one?" The argonian spoke with a tone that was unlike her. She had changed since arriving in the Shivering Isles. Haskill snorted.

"If it pleases you, my lady."