THE DOOR
Mwajuma stepped inside, the heavy thud of her new boots announcing her arrival.
The room was dimly lit by a single, glowing crystal lotus resting on the vanity. Zuri was seated before the polished silver mirror, dressed in a sheer, floor-length gown of pale gold silk. She was slowly, methodically brushing her intricate coils of hair, her golden eyes tracking Mwajuma’s reflection in the glass.
Zuri turned on the wooden stool, her brush pausing in mid-air.
Her breath hitched, a flawless, perfectly calculated display of sheer, overwhelming awe. She took in the sight of Mwajuma—the dark, heavily muscled titan wearing the gold-veined iron-shale pauldron, the brutal gauntlet, and the stone collar.
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