The realm thought unbreakable had yielded to the lioness. 'Neath her heels, the totality of the sands groveled. Their thoughts toward her governance were immaterial. The common riffraff was not known for their wisdom and was often compelled to behave on their less cultured compulsions. Under her guidance, a truly enduring regime might yet blossom—an empire eternal, immune to the oxidizing nature of time. The sands may shift, and the people's forgetfulness might motivate them to misremember. But Samara, her will maintained the longevity that rivaled the very mountains.
She was there, tucked within one of her many outstations. The crimson jezebel and her boy toy nested. The monarch was off inspecting the fruits of one of her many investments. Meanwhile, Chuluun was left unattended to bask under the suns within one of her many properties. Throughout this fortified location were various columns of stone. Each emitted a different hue as they drew moisture from the dry air. Palm trees sprouted from the sands, providing much solicited after shade as the cooling crystalline waters of the oasis beckoned many a weary voyager.
The bustling of this settlement reverberated as people went about their mundane routines. Blissfully oblivious of the iniquitous maculations that their czarina had inaugurated. The defilement and that minor impediment of the Verdant incursion reminded the bovine matriarch that she needed to acclimate. Her sovereignty over the wastelands had nearly been lost, producing with it an unsettling insight of vulnerability. If her schemes were to see fruition, the temptress necessitated all quail under her shadow. It is why she visited that boorish canyon, to try and discover a way to force those rabid mongrels beneath her yoke. Soundlessly, the queen stood watching as the new weapon system shot forth a cloud of heated death.
The rolling fumes cooked the beetles alive as the engineers jubilated over their achievement. Samara, on the other hand, remained stoic. Her immolating sols for eyes scrutinized the result as if unamused. Their spoof of her skills was remarkably raucous. Their minds were shallow, and their need to be felicitated was intolerable. Did they expect her to inundate them with acclaims, maybe break down and deliver bewailments of joy? For what? These blighters had done the minimum; they had fulfilled their jobs. Nothing she had observed even loosely indicated that her coin was well spent.
Their self-celebration desisted, the room going hushed as the mistress of sin strutted over to the machine—her topaz jewels ricocheting from the contraption to the deceased insectoids no more than thirty feet away.
"I put my faith in you, and this is how I am rewarded? No, this toy is as helpful as you are to your wives. You have a few more months to yield more substantial fruits."