Ever since she sent for Lotor, she had not left Zarkon's side.
It would take soldiers, entire fleets and armies, perhaps even Voltron itself to drag her away from him. She had served him for ten thousand years, and would serve him ten thousand more if she had a say. Nothing, not planets, not galaxies, not even time would stand in her way.
Zarkon would have every inch of the universe if he so desired, not even Voltron would stand in the way of that. She would make sure of it. She looked back at her master and silently cursed those wretched Paladins to every form of torment her mind could cook up. She would make them pay for what they had done to her master. They would suffer in ways no man or beast could ever imagine.
She sat back down in the chair one of her druids had gotten her, once he realized she would not go and sighed. She thought back on the day she had first gotten her coven. Zarkon had rounded up a group of elite assassins who wanted her to teach them. In exchange for their loyalty, she taught them all she knew. They were incredible students even and helped her to develop the Komar. She was proud of them. Formidable warriors, quick thinkers, and far less bulky and oafish than the soldiers the emperor preferred.
Again she sighed, looking out on Zarkon's face. He was far too still, too unmoving. She gently reached out, then pulled back, knowing better than to disturb him. Too much physical contact could possibly interrupt the flow of the quintessence. She could never take that risk; she would die before she took that risk.
When the door opened, she moved to dispose of whoever dared disturb the emperor until she froze at the familiar soft mass of white hair.
"Prince Lotor…"
"Mother."