The paucity of self-indulgence had whittled the arachnoid to her core. Her time was often invested in manners regarding the bigger picture. The fickled nature of others often fostered with it destructive aims. And while outwardly her federation might appear tranquil, the thread weaver wasn't one to adopt complacency. Valerna had witnessed many times how things tended to succumb to entropy. If her umbrella state were to endure, it demanded continuous prudence and awareness. Yet, in lieu of her reputation, Valerna Jorgenskull was still very much a woman and panged after the same things all ladies yearned after.
For too long, she had abided within the tenebrosity of her lair, weaving quite the filigree to keep her empire from tearing apart at the seams. This solitude sowed seeds of temerity, internal plights that led the spider to second guess her crusade. Recently, she had opened her heart to another, a jackal who had been appointed as her chaperon. Their time together materialized as promising, convincing the nonnative to extend an offer. The spider had left her heart wide open, all for the hopes of feeling an emotion long since deprived of her, love. There, within her lodgings, the auburn-haired beauty donned her most gorgeous attire, lit the finest scented candles, and even prepared a meal famed within her homeland. She had hoped that such exposures to her culture might guide Niazmina to dismiss the propaganda she had surfeited on.
Alone she waited, nervously playing out how things might transpire. The pale beauty was rehearsing the event within her mind as if preparing herself for failure. The hours crept on by. Initially, Valerna duped herself into believing maybe her duties were responsible for her tardiness. Yet as the sun settled beyond the horizon, she sat alone in the darkness. The spider came to terms with the truth. Her monstrous appearance and foreign attire must have repulsed the necromancer. Ironic, the chieftain had subjugated nations, led the development of industry, and built up a superpower from nothing. Yet was powerless within the foray of matters regarding the heart.
She rose from her seated position, blowing out the remaining candles while cleaning up the mess she had created. Only to once more crawl into her cold web and sleep as she had lived, alone. Come morning, she would be gone, traveling from Emerald city to Nirvana, the sands capital. Upon her arrival, it was the typical fanfare, although this time, it chimed hollow. Alone, she organized her dwellings by laying out various trinkets of her homeland—artifacts that granted a fleeting glimpse into her history as a hunter, wanderer, and sovereign. Once she had finished reorganizing her quarters for a future meeting that she conspired. The pale beauty stepped beyond her room, perching upon the balcony overlooking this familiar metropolis.
Her curvaceous shape is bedecked by emerald and sapphire gemstones and a kaleidoscopic array of feathers. These prized possessions made up a stunning headpiece and a cascading dress. The jewels glued onto her body, and the painting underneath seemed to twinkle under the ambient light. Her risque habiliment was equally as regal as it was titillating, the ideal analogy to illustrate her people and their culture. Yet, notwithstanding her bold choice of attire, Valerna Jorgenskull felt anything but colorful. Privately, she still quarreled with that rejection. Her mind replayed that event on loop as if trying to locate where things went awry. Ultimately she didn't blame Niazmina; instead she kept the onus fixated on herself.