An insistent rap upon her door, followed by the cadence of footsteps, signaled his arrival. As usual, Prince Regent Kasiam''s entrance was imperious as it was unannounced. He did not wait for permission to enter. No invite was needed for him. His confidence that he could do what he wanted was as unwavering as the flames that crackled within the hearth. He was a man of stature and position, accustomed to difference. He believed his will to be law. She was prepared, having set her heart as a fortress as unyielding as the stone walls of her tower prison.


    "Your Highness," he practically purred, a knowing look written plain upon his face. "I have come to see about your decision. Have you accepted the predicament you find yourself in?" He had a smug tone as if he already knew how she would choose.


    She fixed her gaze upon a tapestry adorning the far wall. She shrouded herself in outward serenity with a practiced grace, smoothing her skirts. Within her, though, a tempest raged. She had made a choice that crushed her heart with a heavy weight. She would not, however, grant him any satisfaction at seeing her distressed.


    "I have," she answered, the turmoil within masked by her steady voice. "I accept the proposal of marriage, with conditions. As you''ve indicated, Androw must remain unharmed with his right to the throne secure until I bear you a true-born son. Once that happens, you must agree to allow him the freedom to leave High Seat and join my father''s house in Prashia." It was a compromise born of necessity and the best she could hope for.


    In a rare display of genuine emotion, a smile graced his lips. He might have feared that the Queen would choose exile or death, but he knew she had no real options. "You have made the wise choice, Amira, and I am well pleased. A great deal of trouble will be avoided because of it." She could see the wheels spinning within his mind as he envisioned the fruition of his plans.


    "I require the proposal in writing, Kasiam, with honor. I will not consent otherwise. Let your words be bound in writing and ratified in court." She wasn''t about to leave it all to chance.


    In a surprising gesture, he took a hesitant step closer. Tension cracked in the air; it was not entirely unpleasant. He knelt before Amira and grasped her hands in an unexpectedly gentle manner. She met his gaze, steady, yet her breath caught in her throat. For the first time, his eyes were not filled with possessiveness, a flicker of something… was it vulnerability? It sparked hope for her, perhaps a foolish hope that possibly, just perhaps, she had not brought herself to a more complete prison sentence.


    His voice was low, almost a rumble that sent shivers down her spine despite herself. "Amira, I, Prince Regent Kasiam, swear upon my honor as a Prince of Reald and the future King. I shall, upon taking you as my wife, formally declare your son Androw as Heir apparent until such a time as you bless me with a son of my own. I vow that upon that event, Androw shall be returned to your father''s house to live in peace as a loyal subject of the High King. You shall have this oath in writing and presented to the court before you walk down the aisle."


    The sincerity of his words surprised her. A small part of her dared to dream of a less bleak future.


    "I accept," she whispered, the words still heavy with the weight of her decision. Yet within that grim acceptance, a spark of defiance still remained. She would survive, and perhaps she may find a sliver of happiness.


    "With that now settled," he said, as he stood, a mischievous glint appeared in his eye.


    He approached her, his step now deliberate, almost predatory. She remained in her seat with a pounding heart. He leaned in, his lips hovering close, and a shiver ran down her spine as his warm breath brushed her cheek. Before she truly knew his intent, his lips descended upon hers. It was a forceful and demanding kiss that took her by surprise. She tried to pull away at first, but he held her chin firm as his tongue invaded her mouth. Resignedly, reluctantly, she returned the kiss. He was to be her husband. A hope grew within her with the shared kiss; it wasn''t unpleasant at all, and perhaps this marriage wouldn''t be as bad as she had feared.


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    He trembled as he broke away from the kiss and took her hands. Pulling her to her feet, he held her close, his embrace both passionate and possessive. He pressed his body against hers, and a tangible heat radiated from him. She felt the stirring of his desire through their clothing, a raw intensity that thrilled and frightened her.


    His hands trailed over her shoulder and the delicate curve of her back before descending even lower; his touch grew urgent and demanding. His excitement was unmistakable as a low growl escaped his throat. He continued his physical exploration, cupping her breasts with an awkward and eager touch. Her nipples responded to his pawing, in tune with his inflamed desire. She remained stoic, allowing her body to accept what her heart could not.


    She attempted to interrupt him. "My lord," her voice trembling. She could see where this was headed, and her heart sank.


    He paused and fixed his gaze upon her. A knowing smile crawled across his lips. "Enough with the formalities. You are to be my wife and may not desire me now, but I remind you. The sooner you bear me a son, the sooner your child can leave this place. I shall wait no longer."


    His breath ran hot against her neck as he lowered his head. He kissed the exposed skin, so smooth, inflaming him further. For a brief, traitorous moment, she imagined it was Chase, the man she loved. It eased her soul. The illusion was fleeting, however, shattered by the prickle of Kasiam''s whiskers. Chase had always been meticulously groomed, his skin as smooth as silk.


    Stark reality replaced the image of Chase. Her resolve wavered, a fragile thing against the tide of his relentless desire. He reached down and unlaced his breeches, exposing the evidence of his physical desire. He turned her around, quickly pushed and bent her over the chair she had recently occupied. She felt his hands fumble, grasping at her skirts, ever more eager and urgent to move them from his way. Before she genuinely knew what was happening, he took her as she stood there, bracing herself with the arms of the chair.


    His urgency was not unpleasant; it surprised her, that feeling. Furthermore, it ignited a spark of desire within her. For a moment, she felt alive, wanted, and desired once again. She surrendered to the moment, pushing herself back against his rhythmic thrusts. It wasn''t lovemaking and certainly wasn''t Chase, but she allowed herself to enjoy it. At that moment, fleeting as it was, she found a strange kind of solace, almost a sense of power over Kasiam, a respite from the recent turmoil that had consumed her.


    His climax was sudden and intense, his body shuddering against her. A low moan escaped him as he released. She knew then that she wouldn''t have to endure much more than brief moments at a time in his future attentions. His rapid response to her body was a small victory, a weapon she could use.


    The aftermath left her feeling unsatisfied, though. Yes, there had been pleasure in the act, but it was devoid of the care, the passion and the love she shared with Chase. There was no release for her, no climax to satisfy. A wave of sadness washed over her, mixed with a tinge of shame. She had been taken so quickly, so nonchalantly had Kasiam claimed her as his own, a mere vessel for his lustful desire.


    He wasted no time adjusting his clothing, his movements efficient and dismissive. He waited, impatient, as Amira composed herself. His gaze lingered on her, and the old familiar leer returned to it.


    "I will visit again tomorrow," he stated in a commanding tone. "Be ready."


    "My lord," she interjected in a steady voice that belied the turmoil within her. "You may believe me to be at your disposal, your mercy. I am no whore to be summoned and used at whim. I am a Queen, and I demand to be treated as such. This will not happen again until we are wed."


    She silenced his initial protest with a look of iron. "Should you suggest I have no choice, let me assure you. I have many. Should you attempt this again, I will make the rest of your days a living nightmare. You shall know no peace or rest until you show me the proper respect due to a Queen and your wife. I have the means of ensuring it." The words were a stark contrast to her recent submission. A flicker of worry crossed his face.


    Deflated, he stood, ready to depart. Yet it was then replaced with a steel determination. "I assure you, you shall have the respect you demand… once we are married. Until then, you are in no position to deny me anything. Remember your place, your son, and you have no allies here. You are mine now." She could see his intent and sincerity; the truth of his words struck her like a punch in the belly. "I shall trouble you in this way again, I assure you. I have had my taste and desire more; frankly, I do not care what is proper."


    A hardened expression clouded his face as he reached for the door, "However, you will never threaten me again. If you do, I will ensure the remainder of your days are spent here, alone and as miserable as possible. Your only company will be my nightly visits." Without waiting for a response, he left, slamming the door behind him.