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“You wouldn’t have liked being empress.” The Doctor fidgeted his hands by his side as he walked, keeping his eyes straight ahead. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown, and that’s not a metaphor. It’s made of dark star alloy and needs a surgically implanted neck brace for support.”
“I wasn’t really considering it,” Clara said. It had been flattering, of course, but she hardly knew the Emperor.
“I’m just saying, good call.”
“I’m not going to drop my whole life on a whim and run off with some man.”
“Of course not.”
“Unless he had a time machine.”