It had been a few days since Incarceron first heard the word, “Queen,” and it still hung like a gem in his processors.
Queen… Queen… Queen…
That was the name the girl from the outside told him.
The girl told him this “Queen Sia” had skin pale as bones, hair like fire, and eyes cruel as ice.
Well, that was a description that could certainly send a ripple through the binary of his computers.
He enjoyed fire, he admired ice, and he certainly found beauty in bones.
… As much as any other artificial intelligence of his complexity could.
After three days of tossing the word around in his primary processor, he finally decided to search his database for the definition of “Queen.”
The female monarch of an independent land who inherits the position through birthright or becoming consort through marriage.
Well, that certainly implies power. And power was something Incarceron found himself undoubtedly attracted to.
From that moment on, the image of Queen Sia became a mystery, a wonder, and a fascination.