The First Mate
She hissed.
The Queen laughed, a noise of a babbling brook. "I am." She smiled. "But, if you are here, it means my wrath is not needed."
Annie rolled my eyes. "I still need your help." She tossed the wreath at the Queen, it landed on her open palm, her webbed hand closing around it, her nails tipped in black. "Such a beautiful gift." She awed, spinning it and turning it in her hands before she placed it on her head, fitting to band her forehead.
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