Honeyed Pasture the gentle moonlight

Her clipped words made his ears twitch; she sounded so loud up-close like this, but more importantly, her breath was warm and he read an invitation within the words even though there wasn't one. His eyes turned to glance in the direction she indicated - half expecting the island to appear like a mirage - and immediately refocused on the path ahead when it did not.

Empress, he parrots, his voice a low drawl - he does not know this word. Presuming it was a title or a rank, he did not question her further about it.