IRE BOILS IN BLOOD  ;  eyes reddening with stirring emotion. he should’ve known that the king would not spare him , nor her , this pain. delicate wrists are caught betwixt leather covered fingers, forcefully, in order to settle her slender frame closer to his. the warmth, the sweetness, of her body only making him feel worse. angrier even.   ❛ NOT TO DRINK TEA, cymbe. he intends to have you. your body. he will fuck you only to see the hurt in my eyes when he brags about breakfast. he wants to have you, claim you, mark you, before i do. ❜

❛   HE SHAN’T HAVE ME,   ❜    cymbeline insists,  but her voice is a breathless tremble,  and cheeks have lost their rosy hue.  mere months ago she would have welcomed this news  (  to be a king’s paramour!  )  but now she finds herself sick at the thought of broad hands gripping her arms,  of unwelcome eyes on her body.     ❛   valentin,  what do i do?   ❜