Whispers Of Submission

rets. The palace loomed in the heart of the capital, marble towers reflecting the crimson glow of the dying sun.

s who kept their gazes fixed on the ground. Her arrival had been expected - a political offering f

ot here b

illusion of status. In this kingdom, beauty was both curren

hoed through t

h I wonder what use a caged bi

eart clenched

aelen

e lounged on the throne meant for someone greater, fingers wrapped around a goblet of dark wine. His reputation was c

alace's servants - slaves draped in silks that revealed more

g the chains of her fate t

id softly, her voice steady despit

his steps slow and predatory. The weight of his

dove... yo

omise - one that wo

d fall heavy u

t of many chains woul

guided her through winding corridors, their hands gentle but their silence absolute. The air grew t

. Whispers of pleasure... or perhaps submission. The walls o

lackwood. A single key turned in the lock, and the door creaked open. Inside w

frame made of dark iron, its p

reath caught

rvants murmured, keeping her eyes averted.

si

gh Seraphine like a b

ond the palace walls, the city of Valtheris stretched into the night - a labyrinth of re

d as the door crea

awaits you here,

, shadows clinging to the sharp angles of his face. His molten gaze dragged ove

, though the tremor in

nothing,

liberate - until the heat of

of her neck. "Because fear has no place in

s voice made her

t merely a priso

move had alr