THE WORLD

There was a time before thrones had names. Before crowns were forged. Before men wrote history as if they owned it.

 

From the ashes of fallen empires, a covenant was born—not of law, nor loyalty, but desire. Women who should have perished with their kingdoms did not. Instead, they endured. They adapted. Touched by something ancient and cruel and beautiful. Not immortal, but unforgettable.

 

Across the centuries, they seduced power and outlived it. Queens without courts. Wives who buried kings. Daughters who rewrote bloodlines. They whispered behind veils, ruled behind smiles, punished behind kisses. Some loved deeply. Others devoured. All remembered.

 

They did not seek mercy. They became myth.

 

Now, as the world fractures again, and new dynasties rot before they rise, the bloodline calls. Their rivalries—buried for centuries—are beginning to stir.

 

And the chronicles begin.