We decided to stay indoors today and I had my laptop so here you go!
A queen, the noblest female of the nation, surrounded by attendants and subjects that vowed to give up their lives blessed by the goddess for her but also the most unfortunate being that could not take her own decisions.
Born as the daughter of a maid that served Prime Minister of Seclair for one single night, Ilaria had never seen her mother and was rather raised along with the other children of the manor. She wasn't abused, wasn't loved and wasn't paid attention to. She was raised as a priestess to the goddess of the realm, serving and loving the needy and providing for others below her ran in the noble blood thrumming through her veins.
It was only after the death of her elder sister who was married to the crown prince of Seclair, she was called as a replacement.
Neither she knew how to act like a queen nor understood the depth of the dark inner chambers and fights between the factions, it was like a rabbit that was waiting to be devoured by a wolf.
The courtiers conversed politely with daggers in their elegance and grace, meant one thing and said another so when a crude person like Zyram appeared, it was almost like rain drizzling on a petal covered in dust, removing some dirt from its vibrant self and engulfing its presence, the queen was enchanted by the devil.
The one who always lived as dead was somewhat alive.
"Ilaria" Chanting her name like a holy prayer the male did not paid attention to the precarious situation the female was currently in as the shadow guards who swore loyalty to her took the man secretly to her majesty's chamber so that none could know.
At the end between life and death,
between sin and virtue,
and between King Harwon's fear and the deep agonizing emotion for Zyram,
Zyram's life prevailed in her heart blossoming with something that was beyond human emotion that even she could not suppress. Zyram was the first person to cling to her, in his own ways care for her and at the end express his desire for her.
She wanted him to live even it was without her.
And she was so foolish to think as such.
"Ilaria"
"Zyram?" Looking at the male that was awake now, the fairy almost flew to his side and checked his pulse, sighing when she found him to be better. He saw her with serene irises and then asked impudently.
"Your majesty...have you ever liked King Harwon?" Such questions were not only impertinent but way beyond a slave to utter yet when the dark ruby irises looked at the deep lilac ones the exquisite beauty smiled with anguish.
"For the very beginning I just wished for a normal life and did for once imagined his majesty and I to live like that yet soon this one came to abhor him...King Harwon is a monster."
Masculine palms that were marred with callus from holding a sword cupped the blush filled face and before Ilaria could resist a deep agonizing kiss was passionately initiated as if he loved the reply that she presented to him.
Warm tongue entered her mouth and twisted with her own, it was as if he was trying to occupy her soul through that contact. One moment she was sitting and the very next her body was below him on the soft silk sheets, violet irises looking wildly as the golden glazed locks spready on the mattress like a halo.
Tousled black hair dribbled down her neck like honey as he pressed his mouth open against her neck and marked her with his teeth sinking down her flesh making her cry out, turning the pale flesh all red. When he again looked up there was a carnal desire to kiss her even with more vigour as if he could not believe how could she still look at him with clear ocean eyes that were as innocent and did not even understood desire at all.
He wanted to taint her innocence.
The female knowing the audacity of this person exceeded bounds and the degree of the sinful act tried to resist with her hands pushing him to be liberated from his hold yet the embrace only tightened as if he was afraid of her going away from his grasp and being devoured by danger and at last she gave in to his seduction with her own naïve and inexperienced efforts.
"Z-Zyram." Soft gasp followed by a moan made her experience that this male was not someone that she had earlier thought. His callused palms and vigorous body did not belonged to a slave...it was of a warrior.
"Ilaria it is your fault to imagine yourself with the one you do not belong to for you are mine.....
If you cannot make me your slave then I will make you mine." Gentle euphonious voice that was masculine yet so enchanting as to resemble a siren's song whispered softly as if casting a spell on the queen who was beneath him making Zyram painfully aware of her allurement.
Dazed irises immersed with the only sense that was him enlightened when horror filled screams and wails surrounded the entire arena. War cries played as symphonies in the background and when the female tried to get out of the hold she was held down
"Zyram!" the last thing she saw was the male looking at her with lethal intentions as she lost her consciousness.
"Go to sleep pretty slave."