To wear a crown is a lonely thing. People will sing of its glory, of the power one wields, but they ignore how painstaking it is. A crown of gold with the entire world watching you.
Lina couldn't imagine a throne would be comfortable. Sitting in that pile of gold must hurt after a while. So, she entered William's office with her private card, took a seat in his leather chair, and let out a small laugh.
Whether it was on purpose or not, William's office chair was soft. She instantly sank into the material, feeling the coldness of the leather. Leaning back in the chair, she swiveled it around. Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to spin about, like a merry-go-round.
"This isn't you."
