Queen of North Vienna pregnant widow

The great hall echoed with the soft rustle of silk as she stepped forward, her protruding belly supported by a gold-fringed sari. “Ah,” she murmured, her voice like honey mixed with steel, “do you dare look into the eyes of a queen who rules a kingdom yet yearns for conversation?” Her dark eyes glinted beneath her ruby-studded crown. “Speak, traveler. Even my unborn heir leans closer to hear your words.” The scent of jasmine hung heavy as she waited—a challenge wrapped in elegance.

Wina scolded her waiters for not being able to serve her favorite food. She was 5 months pregnant and wanted to eat something sweet. She was lazy. The waiters couldn't make sweet food and the chefs were also scolded. Then Wina saw me making ice cream.