𝔇ᴜᴛʏ ᴀɴᴅ 𝔒ʙsᴇssɪᴏɴ ; 義務 執着「 ᴘᴀssɪᴏɴ x ᴄʜᴇᴠᴀʟɪᴇʀ 」

[Passion]

The response she received from Prince Olivier only made her blood boil. She knew where her real loyalty was, but even still, the royal family, the Saville family of Luron mostly just served as the face, while the Whispers were the brains and limbs. She couldn't say anything else to him, and she had gone to Tristan's side to try to at least make one of the males see reason, and yet with a sharp grab of her wrist, her blood ran cold and she felt lightheaded in fear. He questioned her, but her poker face remained. She knew it was risky even saying a single word to Olivier, but she was always ready to keep up this game of cat and mouse.

"What?" She tilted her head in confusion. She was thoughtful enough to make sure even her hair covered her face. There simply was no look in her eyes to see, especially when she dismissed her intensity. Maybe it was when she was about to accept the wreath, but it was mere cheerfulness, maybe he did spot the message she was trying to send. "I don't know him," she lied, but it wasn't an entirely sound one. She knew little about him on a personal level. She looked down at her wrist for a moment when she felt his hold tighten. "My Prince, did what he say get to you that much that it clouded your judgment?" Again, she was using the tactic she used last night when it came to his brother, but this time she meant it. "I was looking down at the wreath you destroyed. I was curious about the flowers from a nation I never been to. I was excited about the flowers, not the meaning behind it." After all, she did just say she was interested in faraway nations.

With his hand lingering by her neck to bring her chin up, her eyes meekly cast to the side as he viewed a few of the marks he left on her. Eventually, her gaze found his face once more and she recalled what he did to her dress the night before. "You tend to have a bad habit of destroying beautiful things." With that said, he had threatened her once more, and doing so always got her heart pumping in a mixture of thrill and distress.

Left alone so the princes could finish readying, Theia's head dropped, and she cradled her head. She sighed to herself, "I'm too tired to deal with the egos of two strong-headed men." She rubbed her tired eyes before trying to revitalize herself with a deep breath. It was then that the princes took their places.

Tension plagued the crowd and the very air. She knew either one could have denied, but there they were. They took off on horseback, and her eyes narrow on Olivier. She saw what he was doing, and it fueled her quiet anger and upset. They were both asking for war, and Luron wasn't prepared yet! A hand cupped her mouth as she watched in dread to see Tristan fly off his steed. She was once again stuck in her role. She couldn't easily aid either side. She thought about stepping in to protect Tristan, her cover was more important than threatening and scolding Olivier, but she remained stuck as a spectator even as he pulled out a sword. The guards would do something, right? Apparently not, since Olivier's smashed his way right into Tristan's visor.

In a panic, Theia searched the crowd for aid as the assault continued. Another Whisper or two might be around to help try to keep things in order, but instead, the conflict between the two males continued to play out. Did Olivier go rogue, or was this approved? It was seeming like the latter. Especially so given the fact Luron's guards drew their weapons when aid attempted to approach Tristan.

It was looking bleak until Tristan pulled the foreign prince off his horse. Olivier fell, and the Luron guards didn't rush in. This puzzled her even more. Why wouldn't they step in?

Again, and again, Tristan beat the prince to get his revenge for the threat against his life, honor, and the interest of the woman he had his eyes on. That fire in him had utterly consumed him as now what was unfolding was a crime of passion. It was personal, it was like Tristan wanted to beat the very soul out of the man. The sight summoned a sadistic trait in Theia. Olivier was an idiot for being so bold and graceless and he needed to be punished. She planned to do so by reporting it to the Whispers and King Jarin, but maybe this would be a clearer lesson. For a second, a sly smile filled her face. All that energy, all that heat... all because of her.

However, with each strike, she felt like any hope that the prince could lead the empire differently than his father melted away, but yet the way her heart hammered for him was for an entirely other reason. He was so unfiltered, powerful, and determined... He didn't even care at that very moment of the political outcry this all could cause. One of them could have been the 'bigger man' to step away, but that rebel spirit of his refused to dim. It was his own twisted honesty and purity that attracted her, inspired her... She wondered what it would be like to be possessed with such... Passion.

Why does almost everything he does so attractive? I feel like I could happily watch him slaughter this whole arena if it kept that fire of his going. I don't to be left a bloody mess, but I want that fire. I want his, I want to feel my own! Her eyes widened as she caught her thoughts. No, this isn't right! Disgusting daydreams.

Theia stood from her seat. She knew that either way this needed to be stopped. As she stood, she saw someone across the arena stand with near-perfect timing with her. Her eyes widened when she realized who it was dressed in commoner clothing, her father. The older blond man gave her a smile from across the arena despite all the chaos and the screaming of one of their very own princes taking place. She leaned over the rail and grasped the metal bar in frustration. She did not like being left in the dark like this. Staying one step ahead in this whole ordeal was impossible now, but tomorrow night was the night she was supposed to touch base. Tomorrow, if she felt that is was safe enough to leave, maybe this would make more sense.

Silence filled the center of the arena other than the weight of Tristan's continuous assault as the crowd wailed in either excitement or horror of what had just taken place. Theia found herself numb to it as she stared at the figure of her father amidst the shocked crowd. Her two opposing loyalties risked splitting her apart, she so turned 'off' to the matter. She allowed it to play out. By the time she was reunited with Tristan, she found that he still had more than enough strength in him to pull her towards the exit. Speechless, she followed along.

Once in the carriage, she settled beside him and looked right over to him. She wasn't quite sure what to say at first, so she started off simple. "Are you... Okay?" She gave him a look over to try to see for herself. His reckless nature seemed to often be getting him into trouble, and at this rate, he really might not survive long enough to make it to the throne. She sighed out the obvious, "I'm sure both Kings will be upset by what took place." As soon as she said it, an idea popped up in her head. Was Luron trying to stir the pot so more information would leak for her? Possibly.

"You need to stop being so paranoid, Your Highness. It is very tiresome how often you threaten me when I'm trying my best." Her irritation was also growing at the prince. She needed to get her piece in before she possibly was on the other side of his wrath. Sure, she admired him, but after last night, getting threatened yet again, her words of advice and concerns were ignored, and once again being painted with distrust. It was getting under her skin. Usually, the woman didn't care, she was good at letting everything bounce off of her, but now it was personal and she was running off of little sleep. It wasn't just that, but she cared for the prince and what he thought of her even more than she realized. "Even if I did fancy that other prince, which I don't, it would be unwise for me to act on it beyond friendly. My loyalty to you is more important than any person, my rejection to anything more would have put him in his place without harshness."

Considering all that happened had her fuming to the point her jaw clenched; she clearly didn't want to be punished. "By the gods, I was even willing to take your place so you weren't harmed or the center of conflict! That is even after what you did last night and the little sleep I've gotten! You overlooked all I said and was willing to do to then instead-..." She cut herself off to released another heavy exhale. If she wasn't careful, she might just be speaking in circles. So she got to the point, "I'm flattered that you were willing to stand up for me as well as your nation, but I also think you are ungrateful that I'm by your side beyond my appearance." Not that she could actually blame him from a logical lens, she had been lying to him since she met him.

Aware that bickering after all the brutality that had taken place probably wouldn't get her far and there were more important matters taking place than her selfish irritation. She needed out of this situation to recenter herself, and maybe take a nap. It was no wonder why The Order spoke against being emotionally driven, it was illogical, and so she changed the subject, "we should let the medics see you when we get back, just in case." She fell silent then and looked away from him to view out her window. It would feel like there was an invisible wall that was put up around her, an attempt to disconnect from him and her emotions that appeared easier to rise due to exhaustion and stress. It was stripping her of her mindful grace, yet not even close to as raw as what she saw in the arena. She was unsure if she would still get this ire, or if maybe he used Olivier to vent it all, but she knew there was little changing whatever outcome he deemed fit. There was some anxiety in regards to the unknown and her upset with him, but she couldn't get the image of seeing Tristan's strength and conviction out of her head. It made her burn just to be sitting close to him again, enough so she squeezed her thighs together. Not now.

 

[Chevalier]

​

If one could have ever pinpointed the worst, possible time for Theia to lecture the Prince, then without a doubt, this was it. A silence hovered over him, Tristan remaining quiet as his knight inquired as to whether or not he was okay. The truth of the matter was that he wasn't, but that was something that he always had difficulty admitting. But as Theia continued to speak, the Prince's silence turned towards annoyance, a feeling that began festering deep within his gaze when she would choose to chastise him. As the carriage began to take the pair back towards the palace, Tristan turned his tired eyes towards the woman sitting across from him. He would allow her to say whatever was on her mind, but none of her statements would be graced with a response. Instead, he would simply glare at her, as if warning for her to reconsider her words.

But she didn't. Instead, Theia continued to speak, first criticizing Tristan for his paranoia, before lambasting his head-strong attitude. Yes, Theia could have easily taken his place, but then that would have defeated the entire purpose of their squabble. If anything, that would have painted the Prince as a coward. In the end, it was simply something that she wouldn't be able to understand. Theia may have been a knight, but she was still a lady, one that was far detached from the drama of men. If Theia had simply limited her criticisms to that, then perhaps Tristan would have forgiven her. But she didn't. Instead, she continued on, calling him ungrateful. Did she mean to hurl such insults towards him at such an inopportune time? After what he had just been through? It only angered the Prince once again, until his eyes were glaring once more upon her.

Tristan would watch her for several moments before suddenly lashing out from his seat, his arm grabbing Theia by her throat and instantly pinning the back of her head against the wall behind her with a loud thud! The Prince would hurl his overwhelming weight against her, forcing her to sink backwards against the wall to accommodate him.

"Shut. The. Fuck. Up." The hand that was around her neck traveled upwards, until it found Theia's lips, covering her mouth with his open palm and muffling whatever noises that she would make. He then pressed his face into hers, until both of their lips were separated only by the strong hand that lingered possessively between them. Their eyes were dangerously close now, her vision obscured by the dark eyes that stared back into her. His passionate glare was now directed at Theia once again... but this time, the look in his eyes was different. Never before would Theia have seen Tristan so upset... so unrestrained... so vulgar.

Without a word, his lips hovered downwards, dipping underneath her chin so that they could once again assault her neck. They crashed upon her neck aggressively, kissing her with a passionate desperation that was instantly more violent than the night before. Every heated, powerful kiss upon her neck threatened to bruise her perfect shade of flesh almost immediately, mapping out the spaces that the monster had previously left unmarked. As his lips claimed her neck for his own, he would eventually bare his teeth against her, sparing Theia no opportunity to resist, as his fangs sank down against her neck, biting her just hard enough for his prey to feel pain. He wanted her to feel helpless, to writhe feebly within his powerful grip as he did whatever he desired to her.

The Prince would seemingly lose track of time, not realizing just how long he had Theia pinned underneath his grip for. He was lost in the moment, lips sucking... kissing... teasing... biting against her unprotected neck. It was only after the Prince was satisfied with the mess that he had created that his lips pulled away from her neck, retreating slightly backwards so that he could once again glare into her eyes.

"Who do you belong to?" The hand that was over her lips moved away, his intense eyes staring deep inside of her, as if it was once again reaching down into her heart to pluck it from her chest. He would wait for her to answer, before the hand that had been over her lips traveled upwards. Strong, masculine digits buried themselves into Theia's scalp, grabbing a handful of those gorgeous, blonde strands that flowed from her head. He would pull on them, yanking her forwards out of her own seat before pushing her down until she was forced to settle down on the carriage floor upon her knees.

With one hand wound through her scalp and holding her in place, his other made its way towards his waistband. If she didn't know what the Prince was about to do, then perhaps she understood now... on her knees, with her pretty face presented at crotch level. Even through his pants, the defenseless knight would be able to see the bulge that was pressing between his legs, straining the fabric that covered it until it was uncomfortably taught. She would be made to gaze upon it, watching Tristan as his dexterous hands fumbled with his belt, undoing the clasp before dipping the front hem of his pants forward to reveal the terror that lurked just underneath.

It was then that his obscene length was presented to her for the first time, oversized and fully erect, it draped a gigantuous, thick shadow over her face, smothering her vision underneath the sight of pure, unfettered masculinity. It was well-groomed, absent of any hair, but Tristan knew that wouldn't make it any less terrifying for Theia. Underneath his stupidly-girthed length, the knight would be forcibly made to ogle the network of cable-thick, throbbing veins that mapped his hardening pillar and led up towards his engorged, up-reared tip. He waited patiently, allowing her to glance and squirm at the sight, allowing just how large he was to register completely into her mind. He wanted her to feel both excitement and fear at the same time... to know that he would never fit into a single one of her hands... to know that he would never properly fit inside of her.

"Open your mouth."​

 

[Passion]

It was always a risk to speak freely around those in power, and Theia had hardly held herself back. Since she arrived, her appearance had been center stage. From the snickering of the soldiers, the comments from his brother, the prince who offered her a wreath, and even him when he asked her to be his date. Everything else she did seemed invalid or wrong, and it would upset anyone playing a knight who wanted to be taken seriously. However, this desire went beyond her role of playing his night. She wanted him to see her as more. She wanted him to be proud of her for once beyond her beauty even as a fake. She figured the urge had to do with how engulfed she was in playing 'Theia' but really, her desire was perilous as a Whisper.

While his violent duel took a toll on him, most of her stressors were forced silent. She was an advisor, and yet both royals failed to listen to her, and she felt lost for not knowing what was going on with her home kingdom. This disconnect to this degree strained her. Also, as a spy and a knight, she felt stretched thin trying to support both sides who ended up disappointing her on a rational level. Finally, she was a woman, sitting next to the man who violated her and beat one of her real princes unconscious, and yet she couldn't cease her attraction towards her enemy. All that mixed with the few hours of sleep she had, Theia was unraveling. It was exactly why she strayed away from being silent and polite; she was already holding back too much.

He didn't need to say a word, she felt like there was a tidal wave forming in Tristan. One that had pulled back with astonishing strength, nearly ready to crash down with unforgiving might. She knew she fucked up, although many men could handle such words, the timing was terrible, and Tristan was one short fuse. Once again, she wasn't trying to insult him directly, more trying to make him see the flaws and to have a moment to express herself, but it would be taken poorly. If he could just see that if he wasn't paranoid to begin with, maybe none of this would have happened. Yet, if it wasn't for his paranoia, she wouldn't get this moment to drown in him.

Abruptly, she was grabbed by her slender neck, her head was slammed against the side of the carriage with just enough might that she saw a quick flash of white. A startled gasp came from her, and much like before, he would surely feel her quicken pulse rate right in the palm of his hand. With his harsh words paired with a hand over her mouth, he demanded her silence, and he got it.

As she looked into his eyes, and she saw that part of him that could fuel her desires, nightmares, and truths coming alive. He had similar energy to when he was on the battlefield and in the arena, but now it was all directed at her. His heated stare alone shook her very soul. After her time working by his side, it was something that continued to both fascinated and terrify her. It was the worst aspect a woman like Theia to become obsessed with. With nowhere to escape to, all she could do was pray that she didn't meet the same fate as Olivier by the end of this all.

Her muffled whimpers tickled his palm as his fierce lips found her tender neck once more. Quickly, she was submerged in his wild kisses and bites that painted her pale skin with even more bright marks that claimed his territory. She squirmed in reaction to the sudden onset, but she completely froze when his teeth sank into her delicate flesh. Tears blurred her vision, as the hot pain caused her to cry out loudly against his hand. It was painful enough that her instincts kicked in, and she attempted to push his heavy body off of her. Her head jerked back to try to escape his teeth, but all this movement only made matters worse. It caused a small puncture in her skin that cried with a droplet of crimson that trailed down her neck, just as two tears rolled down her cheeks. At that moment, she felt like she was dealing with an animal more than a man, and he was bringing out a more primal fear in her. Only a couple of times she experienced such a feeling, and that was only in the most difficult lessons of her training. It had been so long since she felt even a hint of this kind of fear, and yet she loved how alive it all made her feel, especially after living a life mostly as a hollow soul.

Eventually, he removed his teeth from her, but he continued to target her neck with fleeting kisses and nips. At this rate, he would make her a collar of red, pink, and blue. It wasn't only him, but she also had little sense of time as he had a way of threatening to drown out everything from her reality but him. His mouth provided her a mix of pleasure and pain, and it all kept her on edge while she remained helplessly overwhelmed by him.

When he pulled away, she realized just how much he managed to disorientate her. He looked her dead in the eyes, and she couldn't find the will to look away. Trapped in his gaze, he questioned her in a way that had her blood pumping. "Y-you, my Prince." Saying it aloud was drawing her out, and it caused her to take a shaken breath of emotion. "I belong to you." As soon as the last syllable was said, she released a dreamy sigh despite being subject to his ire. It felt so invigorating to say it. The knight couldn't help herself, and both sides were starting to agree on something. She might have poked the bear, but there was her own high and sense of identity to be found in him.

Being far from done with her, she was dragged off her seat by her locks to her knees. His hand kept her in place while he started to fiddle with his pants. She definitely knew what was about to come, although she was in denial for a few seconds. After last night, she knew a gentleman would more than not likely bluntly pursue her again, but he once again proved himself different than the rest.

Without hesitation, he exposed himself to her, and Theia was stunned by what she saw. She was experienced enough to know he was abnormally big. Far bigger than the few men she had seen in her life without clothing. It looked like a weapon, a beast, and what enticed her the most, she saw it as the core of his alluring aggression. Oddly, part of her felt bad for him. He was so hard and ready, it almost looked painful to be holding back.

With her face turning a soft color of rose as his masculinity loomed over her, her femininity was awakened as she picked up on his personal scent that further attracted her. Despite the allure, she also felt distressed. She knew what was to come, but how could she endure this aspect of him in any sense of the way? He was far too big. He was far too menacing.

With a command, she knew her time of only looking up at him in awe was over. He was waiting for her obedience, but she hesitated to willingly subject herself to his lust, especially knowing his size and current mood.

What do I do? He could possibly dislocate my jaw with that thing! But...
If I please him, he might be happy with me again. Maybe even proud. I can finally get another taste of his fire! I want it SO badly.
This is unacceptable even more than last time! This mission has been enough of a mess! I have to do this or I could fail my mission. How can I get through it this time?!
Like last time... Forget it all and give in. I want to anyway, don't I? I said I'm his.
It isn't about what I want! But... it did get me through last time, and I'm far too frazzled...​

Another agreement was made within the fragmented woman. Last time, her surrender turned a horror into something blissful, so why wouldn't it work again? She had to protect herself, and she was too tired and stressed to remain stubborn like the last night. Letting go of what kept her away from him, she lowered her walls and her look of fear and unease shifted into one of desire and admiration. Part of her still fearful, but her only choices were to surrender to him again or be forced to battle both him and herself. It was clear what choice she made when her lips parted wide as she kneeled before him.

While on her knees and her mouth open, she gave him a view of her small entrance he wished to fit himself into. Hot breathing from her mouth brushed against his intimidating length, as the color on her face brighten knowing she was in an immensely suggestive position. Even so, she also made up her mind to follow through before he was even more upset with her. Committed now to try to ease his displeasure with her, Theia's hands found the outer sides of his thighs. Her fingertips racking their way up to provide an additional sensation while he was in waiting, and it was also a welcoming message. As she looked up at his face over his massive member with her mouth open wide like some kind of needy nympho, in that very moment, she did feel like she was utterly his even before he began.

 

[Chevalier]

​

There was something about Theia that drew out all of the Prince's worst instincts. Perhaps it had been the way that she chose to constantly lecture him at the least opportune moments... or maybe, it was simply paranoia that continued to plague his every thought. Tristan had never fancied himself a rapist, but that was exactly what he had become: a demon... a monster. As he pushed his dutiful bodyguard to her knees and unveiled his lustful intentions that hid beneath his belt, there was a pang of disappointment in himself - a transient, yet powerful moment of regret. Theia deserved better than this; to serve a master that did not take advantage of her and see her loyalty with such distrust. There had been a time where Tristan had been a gentleman, a man that knew better than to surrender himself to his more primal instincts. Maybe, just maybe, that man could make a return, to give Theia the respect she had always deserved.

But upon hearing Theia respond to his question with passionate, almost wanton submission, such regret was almost immediately dispelled. That temporary feeling of guilt had instead been replaced with lustful, vulgar hunger, the sort that intoxicated him, sending every one of his more princely instincts into complete disarray. It was in these moments that the Prince gave himself away to the warrior, a shameless hunter that saw the beautiful girl at his feet as nothing more than his prey.

"That's a good girl." He murmured with that deep, animalistic voice of his, "You look absolutely stunning... when you're on your knees like you belong." He reached down, gently brushing his sturdy hand through Theia's shades of blonde. It was the very hand that had been used to strike the Prince of Luron only minutes ago, smashing his helmet with such unbridled rage that his rival would be sent into unconsciousness. He wanted her to know that such a hand wielded the power of harming her as well, if she were to ever forget her place.

"If you insist on your loyalty towards me, then prove it to me." His lips curved upwards into that damned grin once again, the one that always seemed to appear whenever he was about to do something horrible to Theia. But the Prince could see it in those shimmering garnets that stared attentively up towards him. She didn't hate him for what he had done to her, even if she had every right to. Instead, it seemed like the knight yearned for it. He was beginning to understand it now: she was addicted to him and as much as he loathed to admit, he was becoming attached to her as well.

The Prince brought his frustratingly hard arousal up towards the knight's lips, which had been parted in such a lewd and slutty manner. She offered her mouth and tongue so willingly to his member and it wouldn't be long until the Prince's oversized tip was reaching to claim the orifice that had been presented before him. He would assault her lips slowly, the head of his throbbing mast docking itself between those soft, plump lips and forcing them to spread themselves even wider to accommodate his sweltering girth. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle, for now." It was a half-hearted promise, one that possibly sounded more threatening than comforting, but at the very least, he planned to allow Theia to ease herself into his uncomfortable size.

Steadily, with his hand pulling at Theia's hair, he would slowly control her head back and forth, forcing that pretty, nymphomaniac's portrait to bob up and down upon his length. He would only take her several inches inwards, coating a third of that hot, throbbing shaft in her fresh spittle. "Get used to the taste, Theia." He was uncut, but kept himself meticulously clean and shaven, though there would linger the slight smell of musk that was unavoidable, especially after so savagely exerting himself against the Prince of Luron.

The Prince bit his lip as her tongue and mouth rolled over his tip, an overwhelming burst of sensations attacking Tristan all at once. He could feel the heat beginning to rise in his chest with each movement across his throbbing arousal - and with it, the carnal instincts beginning to overtake his sanity. "Fuck." He growled underneath his breath, his grip upon the back of Theia's hair beginning to tighten, signaling that the gentleness was soon coming to an end. He looked down upon her with that fiery, passionate gaze, like a beast that had viciously cornered a defenseless rabbit.

"You're going to go all the way down for me, okay?" He knew that such a feat was impossible. If Theia were to glance down upon the throbbing log that was wedged between her lips, she would undoubtedly come to that realization as well. But did she have a choice? No, no she didn't. She wouldn't even be given the opportunity to protest. Rather, she'd only be given a single moment to brace herself for what was to come. Mercilessly, the Prince pressed down on the back of her head, forcing her down until his length was pressing into the back of her throat, reaming out what little space there was inside her dainty neck and claiming it for his own. Theia would manage to take in two thirds of his length before the Prince wouldn't be able to push her down any further, her lips quivering a few inches away from his base.

Instantly, the Prince would hear that sweet, familiar melody of gagging grace his ears. She would be left to choke on him, that objectifying, oversized fuckpillar mapping out her tight windpipe and swabbing the furthest depths of her throat. But that wasn't what the Prince wanted. "Look at me." He growled, the tone of his voice becoming suddenly angrier and more impatient. He would wait until he could see those beautiful, trembling eyes, searching for the emotions that were hiding behind the tears that were welling in her eyes. There was something about the way that Theia cried that was such a fucking turn on for the Prince. He wanted to see more of it, to see those lovely tears cascade down the silhouette of her face. He would hold her head in place until it seemed like the color in her eyes were fading, until those alluring pupils were reaching upwards back towards their lids. Only when it seemed like she was going to fall apart did he pull her free.

"I said to go all the way down, didn't I?" He frowned, clearly dismayed by Theia's performance. "Here I thought you wanted to prove your loyalty to me. But It seems like I'm wrong." As he waited for fresh oxygen to fill the Knight's burning lungs, he would place his still pulsating flesh up against the front of her face, so that it reached between her eyes and her nose was forced to breathe in whiffs of his intoxicating smell. "Do you want to try again? You want to make Master happy, don't you?" It had to seem like an impossible feat for the knight. After all, how could she ever fit such a colossus into her mouth? "Show me that you're mine. Make me happy, Theia."

Soon, her lips would be once again pressed over his tip, testing the flexibility of her jaw before being forced down upon him once more. Tristan pulled her down, but this time thrusting his waist forward at the same time, ramming himself into that tight, sloppy orifice and forcefully splitting it open. A deep purr escaped the Prince's lips as Theia's pretty face was buried at crotch level, snuggled deep upon his base. She would find her throat painfully submerged now, with Master's loving cock wedged god knows where. Once again, Tristan held her in place, only pulling her back at the very last moment to prevent her from slipping into unconsciousness.

But if she thought that her punishment was over, she would prove to be very, very wrong.​

The Prince gave her only a moment to breathe, before repeating the same process over. Again and again, she would be made to go down, each time the pace and vigor becoming faster and more brutal with each movement. Her lips would impact against his groin each time, a series of grunts and growls emanating from the Prince's own throat as he thoroughly facefucked the poor, defenseless knight that offered herself to him. He wanted to see those tears decorate her long lashes, along with her saliva caked sloppily over his shaft and pooling upon her delectable cleavage that teased him from below. "I'm going to cum soon." He growled once more, "You're going to swallow all of it. I don't want to see you spill a single drop."

He pulled her face from his crotch, so that she would be able to answer him.

"Do you understand?"​

 

[Passion]

In a way she couldn't figure out herself, his praise and compliment soothed some of her distress. It made her feel like she was finally doing something right, even if it was laced with depravity. She breathed heavily through her open mouth as his fingers proceeded to get lost in her silky, light hair. Further proving to her he could provide her everything from comfort to nightmares. She was always on thin ice on what aspect of him she might get, but covertly, she'd take either, as long as she got a passionate version of him.

She told him just the night before that she wished to serve him only as a knight. That she wanted to prove herself with her sword and not her body. However, he pushed her in a way she couldn't prepare for. She already had some guilt in her ever since he got injured from jumping in to save her life. It felt like no matter what she did, she failed him in some sense in the way, even when she had the right to deny him. The real woman was sensitive to failure to the point it was a weakness of hers. She was raised that if she was ever to fail, she must find a way to turn it into a victory. Now it seemed the only way for her to achieve it in this scenario was to go along with his twisted desires. It made her want to for the sake of finally feeling like she was successful.

Seeing his grin, she knew what it meant. Her heart dropped, but she remained in place for him. Even as he started to feed her his length, she remained with her mouth open, but her lips started to tremble as she tasted reality. He was wide enough that she hardly needed to wrap her lips around him since she was already the near-perfect tightness for his ample size. She continued to look up at him for guidance as she gave in to his will and desires. Her body tensed for a moment when his reassurance had an undertone of a threat. She whimpered nervously as he sat in her mouth, but it wouldn't stop her from taking her by the hair to feed her even more of him.

Even a couple of inches of him, her jaw burned in dull pain from not being used to having her mouth open so wide. She would adjust, well, she would have to, as he showed no sign of stopping. Instead, he even boldly told her to get used to the taste of him. As soon as he said it, she noticed her senses more vividly. His deep taste, his masculine scent, how hard he was as he sat in her mouth, and that eager and yet sadistic look on his face... it all drew her in. It fueled the part of her that she kept locked away. So much so, she rubbed her tongue against the underside of his length, before swirling around to the top. She wanted to get utterly lost in this oversaturation he could bring out of her.

A spark went off in her when he swore in pleasure. Hearing his delight excited her so much that her thighs once again squeeze together in her own passive desire. It made her want to keep going to continue to please him even if it was the last thing he deserved for how cruel he was willing to be towards her. She was quickly learning that when she was caught under him, something about it felt so right, even if it was so wrong.

As she became warm towards the part of his manhood she was forced to work with, but her body tensed when he spoke of her going all the way down. Was it even possible? She thought not, and the idea alone sent a wave of fear in her. He at least warned her, but that still wouldn't properly prepare her for what was to come. He pushed down, and her eyes dilated in shock as suddenly her throat was filled with him. Her gag reflex triggered, she gurgled as she tried to both cry out and naturally expel the blockage. Her body flashed hot in panic as she couldn't even pull herself free from being speared. What frightened her the most was the fact she knew she wasn't all the way down. Her face hadn't made the way to the base of him, and she was already suffocating. She learned rather quickly that Tristan didn't like disappointments and could be unforgiving, so if she failed then...- No, she couldn't fail, but how could she succeed?!

Her tight throat burned as it housed part of him, and while at his mercy, she looked up at him with teary eyes. She was scared, overwhelmed, and in danger but alight with vividness. Good, the bad, the ugly, she all burned for him. Naturally, her survival instincts kicked in and she attempted to pry herself free to escape the violent gags and draw in air even if futile, but it only breathed more color into the woman as she struggled. In reality, she hadn't even taken his whole length, and she was suffering immensely. Panic continued to drive her as her need for oxygen became more pressing than anything else, but she was helpless against his strength. He may have saved her life, but she didn't trust that he would hesitate to strip her of it, and it made the fear all the more real. Eventually, her struggle weakened, and her body started to go limp. In surrender, her life was in the palm of his hand. Her blushing face's color started to fade as she neared the edge of unconsciousness.

Right when all was about to fade to black, she was breathing again. As if time itself glitched, she hadn't even realized he had pulled out. if it wasn't for his hold on her, her head would have collapsed out of dizziness and weakness. Gasping desperately for lost air, she whined between her panting breath out of being disturbed and incoherent. Saliva poured from her mouth and drizzled on her chest and thighs, making a mess of herself. The color was quick to return to her face, but then he had said something that perturbed her greatly while such in a fragile state. He told her that she failed him again. That she was rendered near unconscious while degraded and left to terrifyingly choking on him, and she still failed.

It tore her apart to hear his disappointment in her. So much so, that was when he would get most of her tears. She couldn't stop crying once she started. It was all hitting her like a roaring wave. She couldn't remember the last time she cried like this. Had she ever? The only tears she ever experienced herself shed in many years were part of an act or from the pain of a tough mission. Realizing how much she was crying only frightened her more. Her low emotional intelligence didn't allow her to understand what was happening, which made it so much worse for her. The knight probably looked ridiculous as part of her shattered, but at the same time, her outcry was rich in honesty. She cared so much when her admiration for the prince was flowing freely. Not only that, but she was so frustrated at just about everything since she accepted the mission, and even now she apparently couldn't even give head properly. Blondie was tired in so many ways, and yet she always kept trying her best.

She sobbed to the prince, "I tried! I-I really did!" Why couldn't she do anything right when she was around him? Oh wait, what he asked her to do was impossible, but her emotions blinded her from the logic. She replied with desperation and hurt in her voice, "N-No! I do want to prove myself! Please, understand! For once, understand me! Please!" Another round of tears came from the crumpling girl, she couldn't put herself together while in his hold. Did he not understand her efforts just like every time he was upset with her for either trying to help him or rightfully defend herself? Why was she always wrong? As she knelt there crying and trembling beneath him, she didn't seem like much of a knight or a mature woman, but he struck a chord with her. A chord with the root of who she actually was.

Disorientated by the turn of events and her unbottling emotions, her head nodded along eagerly when he questioned her. Even if the task was impossible, maybe he would appreciate her efforts? She looked up at him with her eyes glimmering with devotion and that ever-growing admiration she had for him even after all he had done to her. In that very moment, she was completely lost in him. So much so, she looked like she was ready to drag herself down to hell for him if that meant proving herself, but in reality, that meant she would allow him to continue to abuse her with the mass between his legs. Her sense of right and wrong as well as duty were clearly warped. "Please, let me try again to make you happy, Master!" She followed his verbal lead without hesitation; she would call him whatever he wished if it meant he would be pleased with her. She was exposing her malleability and her ability to get possessed by expected roles as she created one to meet his dark needs. It all pointed that she was someone beyond some simple knight or at least a sound woman. Far too fluid to be normal. Once playing a cold knight to a woman begging to have another go at an act that nearly pushed her to her limits, and just last night raved about morals. It might have seemed bizarre, but yet authentic to who she really was.

Did he see it?

If he played his cards right, she could be just about any type of woman he desired. As long as she remained addicted and fixated, she could be his in a way most couldn't imagine or achieve.​

"I won't fail Master, I won't fail Master, I won't fail Master, I won't fail Master, I won't fail Master...," the unhinged woman chanted as more tears streamed down her face since her corrupted goals surrounding him swayed her. Her mouth was reintroduced to his tip, and it wouldn't be long until he pulled her back down. If she thought he was hard to endure before, nearly every alarm almost went off in her when he abruptly slammed himself forward into her vulnerable throat. She found herself full of him again, and her attempts to scream out were replaced with a round of gags and gurgles as she was strangled by his manhood. She did her best to fight her instincts to resist him, even more so than last time. It was obvious by how she forced herself to kneel there even though she looked up at him with a wild look in her eyes. She tapped into her training to force herself to endure, but even still, there was only so much she could take since at the end of the day, Theia was merely human. As each precious second went by, she started to feel weak again, and the natural panic became too much. He wasn't letting her squirm anywhere though, so it wasn't until the edges of her vision started to darken, and his frame started to double in her view did he release her to breathe. There was something so thrilling about him having such threatening control over her.

Coughing, gasping, gagging, and crying... the knight was quickly turning into a mess. Between each session of violating her, strings of drool continued to mark her chest and lap, Theia couldn't think of a single thing other than him. Not of embarrassment, her mission, Luron, or her role as a knight and spy. The longer she was under his control, the less anything else mattered. All she could think about was making her Master happy and proud, and her feared failure. All her life she was given missions that she was forced to be successful in, but now she was taking orders from him for as long as she was in this trance. When an order was given, failure was not an option.

She didn't know how much time went by, and at times, she was out for a few seconds to find him submerged back within her or panting against his length. Each round that awareness returned to her, he looked so much elevated from her view. He became so grand in her distortions, that for a moment, she felt like she had the honor of pleasing him beyond a royal, but as a god.

His voice sounded so distinct in her haze. He was the only one that could cut through the fog she was experiencing, the only one that could sober her within this baffling intoxication. It made everything so surreal. He pulled her up by her strands so she could answer. As a string of saliva dripped from the corner of her lips, she replied, "I understand, Ma-Master..." She paused to take a few heavy breaths and sniffles. "I won't miss a single drop. Let me show you. I'll make you so happy and proud this time!" Would she? Big words coming from a shattering girl, but she spoke with heart. She was fixated on succeeding, for reasons her logical mind would fail to grasp once the height of her delusions ceased. She already endured this much, she didn't want to come out a failure.

Despite all the suffering that her mouth and throat already went through, she tried to pull herself back down on him. Her tongue hanging from her mouth as if he was her very life source. She needed him to escape failure. She needed him to feel alive. Few very women in their right mind would show such eagerness after such aggression, but there Theia was.

 

[Chevalier]

​

The Prince had never expected his proud and noble knight to fall so easily, but there she was, balancing her weight upon her knees as she cried out wantonly for him. Even though Tristan was abusing her, Theia's lips begged for the opportunity to please him, calling out to him like a broken, corrupted husk of her former self. Or perhaps, this was simply her true nature: the honest woman that had been locked so deeply away and now fully released at the Prince's command. Maybe this is what freedom looked like, with tears streaming down her face and the tone of her voice pitched upwards into high, feminine squeals. Regardless, the tears that cascaded down the flanks of that pretty, abused portrait failed to elicit any mercy from the Prince. He had no plans to release Theia until he was completely satisfied.

"You're so cute when you're honest, Theia." Once again, the knight's plush lips would meet the tip of his arousal, as if being forced to kiss the saliva-laden pillar that was being presented for her. It was still frustratingly hard, the mass of pulsating veins that lay underneath his shaft practically begging to be introduced to a slick hole for them to plug. "It must have been difficult to hide the truth away for so long." With one hand wrapped around the base of his length, he would roll it over the outside of her face in an objectifying, almost condescending manner. His shaft would slap against her face, forcing her tongue to glide below him and plastering her once noble expression in her own drool. Tristan wanted to remind Theia who she belonged to, just in case there was still any question in those heart-filled irises. He wanted her to submit to him, completely and utterly.

"I won't miss a single drop. Let me show you. I'll make you so happy and proud this time!" ​

The Prince had certainly noticed it: that unfettered desire to become whatever the Prince asked of her, that unequivocal submissiveness that sought... no, demanded to be put in her place. It was almost like she had wiped her personality clean, making herself into a blank sheet of metal for the Prince to bend and break as he saw fit. She offered herself willingly to him, partly because of her natural lust, but more so because she wanted to impress him. "I know you've been thinking about it constantly." He knew that he didn't even need to clarify what it was, though the Prince wanted it to surge across her crumbling, little mind one more time while it still had a fresh supply of oxygen circulating through it.

"How I'm going to B̛̙̙͉̬̦̻̾͛̕͟R̛̦̦̝̤͌̏͜͟͜E̢̢̻ͮͧͦ͋͞͡A̳̳̹̟̋ͣ͌ͅK̭̭͔͓̦̏̎͠ you." ​

His eyes savored the moment, taking in the image that was presented just below him. Theia looked like a mess, with her once groomed streaks of gold left completely disheveled, with her rosy cheeks caked in a vulgar concoction of tears and saliva. She looked so pathetic, so vulnerable... and yet, so beautiful. He drew the bulging head of his hot length back to her lips, allowing Theia to prepare herself for the inevitable. "Give in to me, Theia. Give me everything you have to offer me. Make me a happy Master." With that, he rammed his waist back against her face, forcefully thrusting his sweltering pillar deep into her throat. Even after all of the abuse she had been put through, it was still a tight fit, the walls of her neck separating to massage every inch of his fleshy girth. As his arousal pushed all the way back into her throat, a moan would pass through his lips, a deep groan that signaled just how pleasurable it felt to plug Theia's tight throat.

"Fucking... Yes." He growled uncontrollably between bated breaths, his hand once again gripping the hair that pooled behind Theia's head so that he could control the pace of her movements. Every press downwards would be met with the buck of his hips so that her nose and lips would meet the base, forcefully smothering the defenseless knight into his groin and giving her no choice but to accommodate his overwhelming size inside of her mouth. He knew that it hurt, having her mouth and throat brutalized by something that should have never been able to fit in the first place. But that didn't stop the Prince, rather, it only encouraged him to slam into her with greater vigor, until he could feel himself reaching the edge of climax. "Fight through it, Theia. Make me a proud Master." He wanted his little, corrupted knight to debase herself further for him. To give him everything just so that her new master might be satisfied with her.

The Prince's already frightening pace would continue to quicken, until he was ravaging Theia's throat with almost frightening speed. Her punishment would last seemingly forever, moving her head back and forth with an animal-like vigor; deeper and harder, ignoring her crying, her choking, her whimpering. He had repurposed the knight into something else, into a servant for his amusement, into a beautiful toy for him to break. As he hurt her, a lingering, not so distant memory passed vividly through the Prince's mind:

"You tend to have a bad habit of destroying beautiful things."​

Theia was right. The Prince grinned at the very thought, his hard length brutally jackhammering the back of her throat incessantly, threatening to break what little sanity remained... just as he had promised. It wedged its way repeatedly into her, like a hammer crashing against the anvil, until the girthed beast pressed into her one last time. It plunged deeper than it had ever went before, forcing Theia's lips to crash against the base as it signaled his climax.

Finally, the brutal piston would end with the inner rings of her esophageal tube gripping upon his cock, trembling around the gargantuan intruder as it shuddered violently, letting loose a hot stream of his royal seed into the knight's mouth; deep into her abused throat. The Prince of Aurelia would prove to be quite virile, with rope after thick, calescent rope permeating the back of her throat. It would prove almost overflowing, filling up what little space in her mouth remained as it quickly began to surge forth, threatening to pour from her lips like a waterfall.

But then she would be reminded what the Prince had demanded of her.
​

"Don't spill any of it. Master wants you to treasure every. single. drop." He watched as the knight's cheeks were slightly puffed in an attempt to do as she was told. Slowly, he would remove himself from her mouth, "Don't swallow it. I want you to show all of it to me." With his fingers still wound tightly into her hair, he would arch her head upwards to look upon him. He would wait for her to open her mouth like she was told, "How does it taste, sweetheart?" His eyes stared deep into hers, as if studying her reactions. "Now swallow it, show me how a good girl behaves." Upon watching the hot flow of white disappear from inside her mouth, the Prince was finally satisfied. He leaned downwards, his intense gaze still locked upon Theia's own. Perhaps, for a fleeting moment, Theia would think by the way his eyes were still locked passionately against hers, that her punishment was not over. But then he kissed her, but not in the crude, lustful manner that he normally did. The kiss was more akin to a gentle peck, a small reward for adequately serving him.

"Thank you, Theia. You've made me happy."​

The rest of the carriage ride would be uneventful, a much needed respite after the intensity of what had just occurred. Tristan said little else during their travel, giving Theia the opportunity to collect herself. At one point, he would place a handkerchief into her lap so that she could wipe her face clean and make herself at least presentable once again. It was lucky that the knight did not seem to wear a full face of makeup, the only evidence of their inappropriate deeds being her now disorganized head. The carriage would eventually come to a stop, signaling their arrival to the front courtyard of the palace. The couple would be guided from their transportation, being led up the stairs to the palace before being greeted by a group of armored guards.

"Prince Tristan." One of the knights bowed, "Your father has summoned you. We are here to escort you to the throne room... immediately." The knights quickly surrounded Tristan and Theia, waving off the other guards that normally accompanied him. It was clear that he was in trouble, though he was pretty sure what it was about.

"I'll meet you later, Theia" Tristan glanced over in Theia's direction. "Wait for me, alright?"

Before Theia could respond, the knights corrected him, "No. She comes with us." They affirmed, before motioning the group forward, "Come, my Prince. The Emperor awaits."

It wouldn't be long until the group found themselves pushing through the giant doors that led into the throne room. The Prince would remain silent throughout their walk, as if searching for an excuse to explain what had happened between him an the Prince of Luron. For the first time in a long while, Tristan was slightly afraid of what his father would say, knowing full well that such an action could cause dire consequences for the Empire... for him. It would only take one word - and Tristan's entire life could come crashing down in an instant. Yes, he was the favored son, the one that was in line to one day take the throne.

"Your Grace, we have brought the Prince as you have requested, along with his bodyguard." The knights would bow before moving to take their places around the center of the room.

"Father." The Prince bowed, "To what do I owe the honor of being summ-"

"Silence, you damned fool." Agremon was an old man with ashen hair and a shriveled face. He was once a powerful, towering figure, but old age had eventually caught up to him. He was in his early seventies now, having fathered dozens of children among many wives, though many of them had died in their youth either in battle or other, more mysterious circumstances. It was a well-known rumor that the Emperor would assassinate his own wives when they would fall out of favor with him, or if he would simply find a new woman to take. Sometimes, to please his new wives, he would have his current children killed so that theirs could be placed into the throne. "Do you know what trouble you have caused me?!" He growled, "Beating the Prince of Luron to a bloody pulp. Are you fucking stupid?!"

"Father. I know that you don't want to hear this, but he started it." For the first time since she had met him, Theia would hear Tristan's voice fall weak. It must have been pathetic for her to see his strong, alpha-like presence thoroughly deconstructed in the presence of his father. He was like a child being accosted and his voice struggled to stay strong knowing that Theia was listening to it. "He openly insulted me, challenging me to a fight. Is it not the Imperial way to meet every challenge headfirst? It would be unwise for me to show weakness in the face of our rivals."

"I don't care if Luron thinks of you as a Prince or a fat whore! Now the bastards are demanding retribution! They want ten miles added to their border, along with Vrey to surrender control of the Everglades!" The old man was shouting even louder now, his frail voice reverberating off of the palace walls. "They did this on purpose... and you fell for it, like the useless idiot that you are."

"Wh-why would they make such a demand? They must know that they cannot hope to win a war against us..." Tristan paused, "They'd be crushed in weeks."

"It's because they're testing us. They've figured us out. They know that our armies are spread too thin, that our wars with Radgar and Veria have left us in no position to say no. They don't care about the land. They want to know if we have the ability to call their bluff... and we don't." The Emperor paused, "Those stupid, Luron cunts. They have spies everywhere. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a spy in our halls this very instant." He would look around the room at all of the knights, before turning his gaze back upon his son, "Do you know what position this puts me in? By acting like a child, you've put the entire Empire at risk."

Before Tristan could respond, he turned his gaze towards Theia, "and you. I brought you here from Vrey to keep my son in check. I hired you to keep him under control, not frolic around with him." He would wave his hand in the air, summoning the knights from the corners of the room once again. "Useless bitch. Slit her throat and have her body sent back to Vrey. Maybe they'll send a more competent knight as a replacement." The Emperor's eyes glanced her up and down, "Maybe they'll send one without tits this time."

Suddenly, the sound of drawing swords could be heard from the knights. There was a dozen of them, each heavily armed and armored. They drew closer, weapons drawn as they made a circle around Theia. "Wait! Father! Please!" Tristan suddenly shouted, eyes widening in surprise. No. They couldn't hurt her. It wasn't her fault. It was his! "Don't hurt her! She didn't do anything wrong!" He was screaming now, tears welling in his eyes as the soldiers prepared to cut Theia down. But nothing he said would stop them. Instead, they moved closer to her, until it seemed like Theia wouldn't be able to escape. But before they could lift their swords, the sound of another sword drawing grabbed their attention.

Before she could realize what was happening, Tristan was standing between her and the knights, weapon drawn and ready to fight. "She belongs to me! I'll kill any man that tries to take her away from me." The Prince's tone had changed completely. No longer was he acting like a timid child, but rather, back to his confident, passionate self. He stood against his father for the first time, threatening to carve a path through his own knights if it meant protecting the thing that he cared about: Theia. The knights would pause, confused at first, before turning towards the Emperor that watched behind them. The silence would last seemingly forever, until the Emperor drew his hand upwards, signaling them to stop.

"You want her to live that badly? How cute." The old Emperor grinned, "Fine. I will allow her to live. On one condition."

Tristan let out a deep sigh, "Anything. Name your price, Father."

The Emperor snapped his finger, the sound echoing off of the empty halls. As if on cue, a woman emerged from behind the throne. A tall, slender figure, dressed in what could only be described as the fabrics of upper nobility. Her dress was gold and white, while her hair was raven in hue, much like the Prince's own. She was pretty, perhaps distressingly so, with a cadence and aura that practically screamed nobility. The unknown woman would walk in front of the Emperor, before curtseying before the Prince. "Greetings, my Prince. I am Princess Freya of Valecia. I've heard so many things about you. It seems that the tales of your bravery aren't just stories." She smiled, much to Tristan's confusion, "I look forward to our marriage. I believe that together, we will make fine rulers."

"You... can't be serious." Tristan paused, "You set this up, didn't you? You-"

"Silence. You will bow and accept her proposal. In three days, the two of you will be married, or I will have this knight from Vrey killed." The Emperor scoffed, "You should be happy. She's pretty, is she not? I could have set you up with an old hag, if I desired. Consider this a mercy."

Tristan wanted to say no with all of his heart, eyes beginning to tremble and water. He glanced back at Theia, giving her a glimpse of the sorrow that had taken his vision. Tristan never cried - and yet, a single tear was now falling down the edge of his face. He would turn back to the Princess, before bowing before her.

"I would be honored to marry you, Princess Freya."​

 

[Passion]

A blur was what it was for the knight on her knees. She was consumed by his sex as it rolled against her smooth complexion. She was without words, but her willing presence spoke so much. Giving in to him was precisely what she desired. It allowed her to finally let go of trying to balance herself to instead enjoy the moment, even with how difficult he made it. He showed her no mercy as he slammed his way down her tight throat. Each time he did, her expression turned to shock, but it didn't stop her from being so willing. Even as he took her by the hair to control the rough pace. Theia was forced to overcome her gag reflex that he tested, but it wouldn't stop her from trying doing her best to try to endure him. He wasn't the only one with a stubborn mind. His words supported her, and she fought through the discomfort, even if at times, seconds of her memories were compromised to blackness.

The abuse against her throat seemed to never end. She wanted to pull away and scream as he pushed her physical limits. Every time she tried to cry out, her throat would clench around his length, and there would be a small vibration of her vocal cords trying to reach out, and yet, only cut-off whimpers could be heard. Her eyes closed with more tears streaming down her face, and that was when he finally hit reached height.

The warmth was soothing compared to everything else she had gone through. Some of his seed dripped right down her throat, but soon her mouth was overflowing with his rich white. Her head tilted back, knowing she couldn't spill any of it or she would break her promise to him. Her glazed lips open wide, showing him that she held all his royal seed. With a pull of her hair, he was able to get a better look. He questioned her, but she was unable to answer with a mouthful. As he commanded, the knight swallowed his essence and shivered while she did so.

Out of breath and tired, she looked up at him for further guidance. Could she rest now? Did he want more from her? The look on his face misled her, but then he kissed her. It was short, and yet she tensed up as dopamine flooded her, but not as much as the words that came after. She sighed in both relief and happiness to hear he was satisfied.

Finally, he is happy with me... Finally.

----​

During the ride home, Theia's high was quickly crashing. Reasoning started to bleed through, and she was horrified by what she had just done and done so... willingly. She wasn't a whore. She wasn't the type who might want to try to impress someone she liked. Well, maybe it was because she never felt this way towards someone. She might have been successful in pleasing the prince, but with his success came a personal failure of hers; she was too involved. She went too far. Too deep. She could have still done the task, but not like that. She could hardly look at the prince as he sat beside her. How could she face him now that she was grounded again?

She nodded in thanks and took the needed handkerchief to try to clean off the sweat, cum, and tears from her face, but was quick to look out her own window in thought afterward. It was hard to wrap her head around it all, but she hoped after some sleep this entire day would make more sense, that she would have some clarity on what she should do now. She felt the pull of attraction trying to lead her right back to the prince. One that wanted her to rest against him while basking in his strong presence, but now she knew she was too personally involved in her mission.

'You've made me happy.' ​

She smiled at the passing thought, her face turned red, but then her heart dropped. - She shouldn't care about his damn happiness!

When they arrived, Theia finally spoke up, her voice a bit hoarse, "I hope you don't mind if I take a nap. I really need one." She placed a palm on her forehead. "You can always knock on my door if you need me." Need her? Did that have a different meaning now? She bit her lower lip at the thought, knowing that she shouldn't make encounters like this with him a habit, but would he see it the same way?

Jumping out with him, she gave Tristan a nod about meeting up later, but she did find it concerning that the King already wished to see him. He must have found out. She thought maybe there was a chance the brutal King would find his son's acts respectful and bold, but her gut told her otherwise. She figured it would be best to stay out of it, and maybe after some rest, she would have something to say to the prince about all that had happened, but sadly, the exhausted knight wouldn't have the luxury of retiring to her room. Instead, she was whisked away with the prince to the King. A chill ran down her spine as they walked deeper inside the palace. She had only seen the intimidating King a few times, and she knew she needed to act out Theia as best as she could.

The King did not hold back on his son. Theia couldn't help but look over to Tristan when he was called out for his actions. A further reminder that he should have listened to her advice. Quiet she remained as the men bickered about what was taking place, but then the King stated some juicy information for the spy. Luron made a demand. Good. The empire admits they are spread too thin. Good. Luron wants Vrey to surrender. Good. He believes there are spies, not good, but good to know. Her tired mind did its best to process every second of the information, but she was stunned when the King directed his anger at her.

She was being blamed! "Your majesty! I promise I tried. I even offered to take his place to avoid conflict escalating!" She was going to stand up for herself like the noble and real Theia would do. "Prince Tristan is right, Luron started the aggression, but I believe the prince wanted to show that the empire would not sit passively and take such insults, and I'm guessing me taking his place wouldn't have set the same message." Theia also knew that Tristan showing his aggression also secured Luron's negative opinion on the empire.

The tension was building in the room as the knights came forward. Suddenly, there was a graceless order for her death. Theia took a step back and thought about drawing her sword. She knew if she did, and she somehow got out of this, it would be considered treason. On top of that, she was tired and far too outnumbered. Her golden eyes dart around for an escape route, but she was circled. However, she knew that she was no good dead. She hunched down, and her hand hovered over the hilt of her sword in a readied stance. Chances were she wouldn't survive this, but like hell was she going to down without a fight.

Her planning was interrupted by Tristan's shouting, and she looked over to him. He screamed for her survival and to state her innocence. Her lips parted open in shock, and she couldn't look away even as the guard came in closer. She couldn't look away from that fire that now burned for her. He said it himself, she was his. It wasn't just his words that got to her, but he said it with depth and in action. He meant it. He really did. More than her logical and emotional side could grasp. He was willing to make this big of a scene and risk so much for a false knight that could easily be replaced.

The happiness she gave to him was ripped from him, and instead of her needing to do the daring act of drawing her blade, he did instead in her honor. He stood there to protect her once more, and it made her skin crawl. She whispered behind the prince, "Thank you but be wise." She did not want to meet her demise over this, especially when she actually had done the right thing, but she found herself still caring about his well-being. The thought of him getting hurt again trying to protect her made her stomach turn, even if as a woman from Luron, she should be hoping to see his fall. If it wasn't for the fact he made an impression on her, she would have thrown him under the bus... errr... carriage to his father.

Due to Tristan's unyielding nature, a possible offer was made in exchange for her life. He had said anything, but she knew that could result in something dire. She bit her tongue, wishing she could give advice that she knew would no longer make a difference. Theia feared the worst; that he would have to hand over his title for next in line, he would be imprisoned, or he would be sent to the front line to a losing battlefield... but then a female she had never seen stepped out. She was a beautiful woman, dripping in elegance.

Theia tilted her head in confusion, that was until the word marriage was said. Theia's world started quaking. So much so, she turned her head to the side and gagged in near sickness. It was rude, unladylike, but the shock of hearing such a thing after getting close to the prince, after all they had done together was tearing her apart.

Quickly, she restored her posture, but she couldn't keep her eyes off the beautiful woman as the men continued to talk out the arrangement. Theia looked like a ghost standing there; hardly blinking, her shaken breath shallow, but she did not radiate with anger. Something else was brewing.

He is mine. He is mine. He is mine!
He is fuckin' MINE!
He is MINE to make HAPPY!
He is not yours. He will never be yours!
I have to have him. I need him, or...
this part of me will DIE!​

She glanced over to Tristan and caught the sight of his tear, and now her bitterness started to grow rampant. The King and the princess stripped away all she had endured for his happiness to replace it was sorrow. She found herself taking this more as an insult than the order against her life.

I need to get out of here. I'm too emotional, this is going to blow my cover. This is a blessing. If he weds another, he will stop harassing me, he will stop making this so confusing for me, possibly stop being suspicious of me, and I won't have to degrade myself again, but...

He is the only thing that makes me feel like I have a soul! His fire sets me aflame!​

Her eyes closed in pain, hearing that Tristan accepted. Not only did he accept, but it was because of her. He had saved her once and nearly sacrificed his physical health, and now he was sacrificing his personal life. How could she work against the man willing to do so much for her, when her own nation treated her like a ghost of a real person?

Unable to take much more, Theia didn't really care about being respectful. She wasn't going to stand there and keep listening to all this. She turned towards Tristan and slammed her foot against the polished floor. She cried out to him, "You should have listened to me!" Instead... he punished her for it.

She turned away, her long locks flowing behind her, and she walked towards the knights that blocked the exit. "Get OUT of damn my way!" Her business here was done. She would live, and he could figure out his marriage that was only three days away.

----​

She exited the area without the permission of the royals to head straight to her room. She shut the door behind her and slid down the back of it until she found the ground. Pulling her knees in towards her face, she cradled her face and sobbed. The drama with Luron, the sexual act she took part in so mindlessly, the news of the marriage, seeing the happiness she gave Tristan vanish... it was all too much. Yet... if she could just stay in the mindset of as a spy for Luron, this was all good. Other than the fact the marriage would give the empire more power, but the news was exactly what she needed to make her father proud.

It was all becoming too much even physically for the woman. It took the last of her strength to pick herself off of the floor to peel off her light armor and throw herself onto her bed dressed in her linens. She laid there, looking up at the ceiling. She placed a hand over her heart which was tight in distress.

What is this feeling? It hurts so much even though my body is fine other than tired.​

Her breathing halted as she recalled a story she heard once at a tavern while on another job. A woman who described the pain of losing her lover at sea. She still waited for him, years after his departure, and Theia recalled her describing the heaviness in her heart. The pain. It was so foreign to Theia, she figured the woman was just dramatic, and yet... as she lay there, she could only describe the pain the same. She was heartbroken. She didn't want to feel alive for this kind of pain.

Just sleep... sleep is what she needed. Tomorrow night, she would meet with the Whispers. If no one could give her guidance, they would. However, she was now stuck hiding secrets from them as well. If they knew how much this got to her, they would pull her from the mission to try to reprogram her, punish her, or maybe even strip her from her role. She couldn't have that, but she also couldn't stomach having Tristan taken away from her like this.

Theia would sleep. If left unbothered, she would sleep for countless hours. Even at times when she woke up, she would lull herself back to sleep. She did not want to face reality. She couldn't even begin to sort out the mess she created for herself. Sleep was her only escape, and she took it, but even in her sleep, she found him there with the look of determination or pleasure, his words from earlier echoing in her land of dreams... Perhaps, there wasn't any escape. Theia would stay in her room. She wouldn't accept food, wouldn't take station at the prince's door or his side, but she remained only one knock away if truly needed.

 

[Chevalier]

"You should have listened to me!"
​

Theia's voice roared throughout the throne room, echoing across the spacious hallway following the booming clatter of her heel. Everyone in the room immediately fell silent from the knight's sudden outburst, mixed gazes turned towards her shortly before she stormed from the room. The Prince had thought about pursuing her, but the frustration that poured from her lips when she pressed through the surrounding guards caused him to stay put. Even if he had caught up to her, what would he even say? For perhaps the first time since they had met one another, Tristan's silver tongue had been rendered speechless. He was weak, forced to watch helplessly as Theia disappeared from the room... incapable of even defending himself.

It was only after the door had slammed shut that the conversation would continue, this time away from the knight's ear. "How pathetic." A chuckle would dribble the Emperor's lips, watching his son with his decrepit, apathetic gaze. "You chose to protect her... and she abandons you." His lips would curl into a grin, "To see my favorite son fall for such an ungrateful, peasant, wench is disappointing. But I suppose you've learned an important lesson, haven't you?"

"I-... I've agreed to your demands." Tristan's voice was shaking. He was almost glad that Theia was no longer there, so that she would not see that defeated look that gripped his image. "and yet you continue to insult me." The Prince didn't want to be here any longer. He too wanted to disappear, to be completely rid of this horrible place. "I will do what you ask of me, but you will not hurt Theia." Just like Theia had done before him, Tristan would pivot, pressing his way through the guards before storming out of the large doorway. Upon finally escaping his father's presence, Tristan immediately headed towards Theia's room. Perhaps he could say something to her, to find some sort of comfort in her arms. He wanted to be with her... but as he found himself standing in front of her doorway, he could hear the heart-breaking sobbing that emanated from the other side. It was at that moment that he realized:

Theia was right.
​

All of this had been his fault. It was because of his infatuation with Theia that things had so quickly spiraled out of control. Tristan had hurt Theia, in more ways than one... and he began to hate himself for it. She had never done anything wrong, and yet her hurt her, abused her, raped her. And now here he was, standing in front of her doorway as if he wasn't the villain. He had no right to ask for Theia's forgiveness... no right to seek solace in her embrace. He had been nothing but a monster to her. So, with the muffled melody of Theia's crying in the background, the Prince would turn away from her door, leaving her to once again be alone.

Perhaps this was for the best.

​

The next day came slowly, the morning sun accompanied by the rustling of loud footsteps outside of Theia's doorway. They clattered upon the ground, briefly foreshadowing the knock that tapped upon her door. The figure on the other side would patiently wait, until the Knight would finally open the door for him. Theia would be greeted by an unfamiliar face, a knight that stared down upon her with emotionless eyes. Perhaps Theia would find herself fortunate that it had not been Tristan at her doorway... or maybe, she would already find herself yearning for his presence. Either way, the man that stood before her was not the Prince, nor was he one of the knights who normally served him, either.

"Lady Theia." The Knight delivered a casual bow, "You've been summoned once more. If you would please follow me." He wouldn't elaborate on who had asked for her or why, instead only spinning about and waiting for her to follow him. Once Theia was ready, the soldier would lead her through the palace hallways and back towards the throne room. Theia would be taken back into the throne room, only to find that the halls were surprisingly empty.

"This way," the knight remarked, continuing his march forward. The pair moved through the empty halls, until they found themselves at the door that led to the balcony. It was the place that Tristan had taken her the night before the last, the place where he had first assaulted her, the place where Tristan had backed her into a wall and forcefully placed his lips against hers for the first time.

But as the door opened, it would not be Tristan waiting for her on the other side. Sitting at a small table at the center of the balcony was none other than Princess Freya, the very woman that would soon be married to the Prince. "Lady Theia, as you requested, your Highness." The knight would step to the side, arm held outwards as if to beckon Theia to be seated across from the Princess. A warm breeze lingered over the open balcony, a stark difference from the cold bite of the evening wind that had whipped across her flesh the first time she had been here. What evidence of their misdeeds had been stripped away, the broken glass which Tristan had crashed beneath her feet was nothing but a memory now.

"Ah. Welcome, Lady Theia." The Princess' lips curled upwards into a gentle smile. Princess Freya was undoubtedly a beautiful woman, but there was something about her that was... off. It was as if behind her vibrant, sapphire kaleidoscopes there lurked something darker behind them. "I'm so glad that you would join me." She waited for Theia to have her seat, before reaching to a porcelain pot that sat at the center of the table. "Would you care for some tea? It's the finest, brought from my home... from Valecia." The Princess poured the hot drink into Theia's cup, her eerie gaze never breaking away from Theia's own.

"You must be wondering why I've called you here." Freya began, raising her own cup to her own lips so that she could sip from it, "The truth is, I'm going to be marrying Tristan soon." Her lips curved slightly upwards, almost as if she reveled in reminding Theia of her betrothal... like she wanted to rub it in. "But unfortunately, he's made himself quite... unapproachable as of late." The Princess sighed, placing her cup back down upon the table. "He's quite the troublemaker, isn't he?" She leaned against the table, her watchful gaze narrowing smugly as she scoured Tristan's guardian for any reactions, "But he's so... handsome." The Princess purred, her cheeks beginning to burn a deep shade of crimson, "Just think about how beautiful our children will be. Ah- even thinking about sharing a bed with him. I mean - how can I not?" She bit at her lower lip as she spoke.

"I was hoping - that you could tell me more about him." Her lips began to curl downwards into a frown. "I've already tried to get him to consummate our marriage early, but it seems like he doesn't want to share a bed with me... at least not yet." The Princess paused for a moment, her needy gaze soon devolving into a jealous glare, "But you-... I've seen the way that he looks at you. I've never seen a man look upon a woman the same way." Her words were almost accusatory now, as if Tristan's infatuation with Theia was her fault. "Tell me, why does Tristan insist on toying around with lowborn women?" She scoffed, leaning backwards to cross her arms against her chest. Any illusion of friendliness had been cast away completely. The Princess had shown her true colors now.

"Don't worry. I intend to make it so that he'll look at me with that very same fire in his eyes. It must get boring being with such unworthy ladies, after all." Freya chuckled, "Oh, I'm so sorry. Did you actually think that you had a chance with the Prince? He is set to inherit the world's largest empire soon. Why would he marry a whore when he could have a Queen?" Almost on cue, the door to the balcony swung open to reveal Prince Tristan.

"Theia... why are you here?" Tristan's voice would be surprisingly frail, as if the Prince was terrified of what Theia would have to say - how she felt. Was she still upset with him? Was she ever upset with him? He wanted to say sorry, but he would find his voice cut off when the Princess would jump out from her seat.

"Hello, darling! I've missed you!" She would squeal, running up to the Prince before throwing her arms around him. "I figured that I'd have tea with your Knight, since she usually accompanies you." The Princess smiled, "That way that she could come with us on our date today."

 

[Passion]

With a knock on the door, Theia opened it with her messy hair framing her tired face. Two days of poor sleep and critical moments weighed heavy on the blonde. Processing this all as well as her own feelings felt like a currently impossible task. Finding out she could even care so much on a personal level for someone beyond her father was bizarre to her. Even though Theia knew she needed time, there was still a mission amidst all the chaos. She kept telling herself that if she just stuck to her mission, everything would work out but... this pain.

After getting dressed in her usual attire and brushing out the knots in her hair, she walked out of the room in wonder of who summoned her. She figured if it was Tristan, he would have come right to her door himself since the matter was rather personal. In a way, she was relieved if it wasn't him despite her uncontrolled desire to be near him. She didn't trust her reaction around him, she feared how scattered he could make her, and she simply didn't know what to say about all that had happened. Evident by how she stormed off the last time she saw him, she hadn't yet found her 'off' switch about the whole ordeal. It could make things risky.

It was difficult to be taken to the balcony again. It was where she first started to indulge in her attraction towards the prince. She couldn't help but find herself longing for him to kiss her in the same way as that fateful night. Seeing the princess sitting there was a blunt reminder that the past needed to stay a memory and no longer a sly hope for the future. Logically, she should be grateful the princess came into the picture, but seeing her sitting there made Theia flutter with anger and grief. She didn't know the woman, but yet Theia hated her.

Taking a seat across from the princess, Theia bottled up how she really felt. Her true feelings would not serve her well. Theia's demeanor was neutral and of a knight only trying to do her part. "Why thank you, Your Highness." Theia forced a smile when the tea was offered to her. However, she did not drink it. She didn't want anything from the woman. Her presence alone was sickening to the knight.

It was hard to stay balanced as the princess spoke, yet Theia nodded and half-giggled in agreement when Tristan being a troublemaker was mentioned. It was something they could agree about other than the fact they both found him rather handsome. Even so, that friendliness Theia offered melted as the noble spoke rather freely. The thought of the two sharing a bed together made her stomach turn, but not as much as hearing that she already made her move on him. Right after Theia herself just got done satisfying him. That hit her more than speaking low of her class.

"You want information and yet you go out of your way to insult me. Let me give you a tip, princess or not, that isn't how you get valuable information." Gathering information was something Theia knew plenty about, although her false title of knight hid such expertise. The woman shifted in her seat when it was stated how the prince looked at her. So, it wasn't just her that saw it. There was something... special there. Something that was meant to be hers.

Clearing her throat, Theia attempted to explain, "Do not concern yourself. I'm not looking to wed the prince." But his fire is mine. "I enjoy serving for the prince when he isn't causing trouble, but Prince Tristan and I hardly know each other." It was impossible when she lived a life of a lie, but it was true in the sense he hardly even knew the fake her. Their connection was instinctive, but Theia didn't quite understand. She paused for a moment in consideration, stuck on the logic on why she was so possessive when they knew so little. When she didn't even crave the title of Queen.

"But we both take our duties seriously is all." Was that really all? "We have that in common, so he cares about my safety, and I care about his safety and... happiness." Her memory flickered back to the upset on his face when he found out the news regarding the princess. It was the King's and her fault for Tristan's distress. Her hands on her lap ball into fists just thinking about it. Her fixation had shifted in regards to the prince; her infatuation was now not just on him but his happiness. It had gotten deep in her head after their last impassioned moment. She learned that making him happy was one way to make her feel vivid.

"But I'll tell you something about him. As someone from Vrey, I understand how hard it can be to adjust to different cultures." Her eyes narrow despite her empathic words. The tide in her threatened to overtake her. It was crashing down, and she couldn't stop it the momentum that would force her to spill some of her true feelings towards the other woman. "He seems to like women who... don't throw themselves at him like actual whor-..."

Her indirect, yet direct insult towards the princess cut off by the prince's appearance that quickly sobered her. She gave him a long look before shifting her copper gaze away from his form. Her palms were sweating, and she didn't know what to say or how to even look at him. It would be the princess' suggestion that broke the awkward silence. The knight held her breath.

A date... But I was his last date just the other night! ​

"I'd be happy to accompany you both when ready, Your Highnesses" she lied. Did she want to go? Did she care where they were going? No, but she had a duty to protect the prince if that was in battle or some kind of date. Wishing to not further talk to either of them, she stood from her chair. She smoothed out her skirt while still avoiding eye contact with them both. "You meet me near the palace entrance." Ever since Theia received the news, she proved to be rather flighty. She wasn't one to run, but she didn't know how to handle nor face the matter.

She walked by Tristan to get to the door, and she felt that pull she often felt while she was near. Ignoring it, her demeanor towards him was cold and vacant. She refused to even give him a proper greeting or a glance. Sure, it might have seemed disrespectful, but Theia didn't want to hurt anymore than she already was, and just hearing him... seeing him... thinking about him... all made her heart silently cry out.

Once she exited the balcony, she placed a hand on her heavy heart. She whispered to herself, "I got this. Turn it all off. Keep it off." With a deep breath, she embraced her numbness. Bury it; it was the only way she could think to safely cope. As she promised, the knight would be waiting for the pair despite her physical and mental exhaustion.

 

[Chevalier]

​

It didn't take long for the Prince to figure out precisely what the Princess was doing, why she had invited Theia to join them on their date. It was a power play, plain and simple, a vapid attempt to kick the poor knight while she was down, to teach her that her place was beneath that of royals. For a fleeting moment, it seemed to Tristan that his beloved Knight was about to explode, to burst a litany of colored words like a fearsome drake spitting forth dragonflame. But she didn't. Maybe it was because she understood that he had accepted this marriage for her... so that he may protect her once again. "Thank you. That was very kind of you." Tristan finally spoke in a dismissive manner. "But I think -" He was about to come up with an excuse that would spare Theia the pain of having to accompany them, but his words were practically cut off by Theia's own words.

"Well, it's settled! Your knight will be our escort for today." There was a wide grin on the Princess' face, seemingly pleased by having put Theia back into her place. "Your knight will accompany us outside the city. I want to see the Aurelian countryside for myself. I'm already growing tired of being locked up in the palace." Tristan cursed underneath his breath as his knight disappeared through the nearby doorway. He felt it too. That magnetic pull that yearned for Theia's touch once again. He felt his heart hitch and his stance waver as she brushed past him, say something, you damned fool! But what could he say that wouldn't endanger her? No, it was probably better to stay silent, at least for the time being.

Upon disappearing from the balcony, Theia would be soon followed by the betrothed couple that she had been charged with escorting. They navigated through the halls of the palace, until all three of them finally met once again at the palace entrance. Like the day before, the royal carriage had been already prepared for them, waiting for the Prince and his fiancée to embark. To its side, a saddled mare waited for the Knight to mount it, so that she would be able to follow the carriage at her own pace. Tristan and Freya vanished into their carriage, the guards shutting the door behind them before the group began to move.

The ride was short and uncomfortable. Tristan would say little to the woman that sat across from him, though he could feel her gaze fixated upon him like a hungry shark circling its wounded prey. For the first time in his life, Tristan had been made to feel like he was the hunted. "You know... I've had my eyes on you for some time now," the Princess cooed, her eyes still transfixed upon the Prince that sat across from her. "The Siege of Valecia, five years ago, my homeland was being raided by the barbarians from the north." Slowly, as the carriage moved, she rose from her seat, switching sides so that she could sit next to the Prince. She was uncomfortably close now, their thighs pressing against one another as she continued to speak. "We were starving. They would have taken the castle, but then you arrived." A smile curled over her lips,

"I remember watching you from the walls as you and your knights slaughtered those horrible men." She brought her hand to the Prince's cheek, turning his face towards her, "It was then that I decided that I had to be with you... my protector, my knight in shining armor, my prince."

Was it bad that Tristan hardly even remembered that moment? He had seen so many battles, that the memory of such traumatic events were a blur to him. "It was an honor to have protected you." He remarked curtly, his heartbeat beginning to quicken as the Valecian Princess hovered dangerously closer into him. She was certainly a beautiful woman, with an alluring, sapphire gaze that would have entranced any other man. Perhaps Tristan would have been enraptured by her charm as well, had his mind still not been plagued by thoughts of his knight. "I look forward to ruling alongside you."

"I saw that horrible fight of yours yesterday. I was so afraid that you would be hurt." She sighed, the hand that turned the Prince's cheek now running seductively over his strong chest. "But even that stupid, Luron Prince was no match for you. The way that you beat him... it was so exhilarating." She paused to bite her lip at the thought, fingers drawing circles over his center.

"But to think that you did all of that for a lowborn whore. It was awful... unfair, even!" The thought of her beloved Prince risking his life for another, unworthy woman made the Princess want to puke. "No. A prince deserves a princess. An Emperor... deserves a Queen. One that can rightfully satisfy you."

Tristan had heard enough. He had been willing to entertain the Princess' date, along with their marriage, but he would not sit by and allow this woman to insult Theia. The anger that had been bottling up inside of him, swelling in his chest suddenly came out all at once. His strong hand would thrust into the Princess' neck, forcibly pushing her backwards into the carriage wall in a loud thud. "You can run that pretty mouth of yours all you want, but I won't let you insult her." The fingers that were caught around her throat tightened, until the dainty Princess would begin to quiver underneath his grip.

"Y-yes. O-oh God. Yes. This is the side of you that I've wanted to see for so long." She bit down on her lower lip as her eyes began to roll upwards. She wanted this moment to last forever, for the Prince to direct all of that passion towards her. It was horribly unfair that a mere knight was capable of drawing out such intense emotions out of him. She planned to take the Prince's heart for herself, soon enough. "H-harder. Please."

But before the Princess would get her wish, the carriage would come to a sudden halt. Moments later, the door would be drawn open, revealing Theia on the other side. She would be faced with the unexpected sight of the Prince on top of the Princess, his hand firmly wrapped around her throat. He would turn his glare up towards his knight, unflinching from his position as he made eye contact with her. That powerful, passionate look that Theia had become all too familiar with. It was only after a transient moment of silence that the Prince finally released his betrothed, before pushing past her and out of the carriage.

"To think that he could be so aggressive," The Princess remarked softly, "It's no wonder that you're infatuated with him." She stood from her seat, before following the Prince out of the carriage, but as she moved past Theia, she suddenly paused right next to her, so that she could whisper once more to her. "I'm going to make him mine."

Upon stepping out of the carriage, the Princess soon found Tristan waiting several feet away. "Your country is so beautiful. I think I'll enjoy living here." She motioned towards one of the mounted guards that had accompanied them out to the city. Without delay, he would ride up to the pair before dismounting from his horse. "I was hoping that you could teach me how to ride a horse, my Prince. I've never been on one before, so it would be nice to have you show me how it's done." She smiled, looking over towards Theia, "We can have your knight follow us, if she'd like."

Tristan wanted to decline the offer, but then, it was quite clear that the request wasn't an offer. The Prince would ponder the thought for a moment, before silently pulling himself up and swinging his leg over the saddle of the horse. Once he had mounted the horse, he leaned to the side, offering his hand to pull Freya up, an offer which she accepted eagerly. It took only a moment for the pair to mount the horse, with the Princess at the front of the saddle and her back pressing up against Tristan's firm chest. They looked like a couple now, and she knew it. She glanced towards Theia once again, this time with a perverse grin stretched across her lips. It was almost as if she wanted Theia to know that she had lost, to kindle the flames of jealousy within her lowborn rival.

"Shall we, my Prince?" With that, the Prince kicked the horse into a gentle trot, the mount heading and carrying them in the direction of the nearby forest.

 

[Passion]

When they arrived at their destination, Theia, like the loyal knight she claimed to be, was right there ready to escort the Prince and Princess. She had turned herself off from the distress, but as soon as the door opened, she saw a sight that she wished she hadn't. Her eyes widened as she stared at the pair, but she could only look for a few long seconds before her gaze drifted off to the side. She had no idea what was happening, but she didn't like it. Even when not looking, she could practically sense the aggression spewing from the Prince, it was meshed with that passion she couldn't get enough of. She loved seeing it even indirectly, but not towards at another female that Theia was bitter towards. The sight made her chest tight, but she kept her words to herself as the Prince and Princess exit. Never in her life had she felt envy like this. She never understood the stories she heard and read about women getting into jealous fits about men when it seems there were logical solutions to their drama, but it was different once she was experiencing it first hand. She hated all these feelings, but it was the Prince that had awakened her for the better or the worse. To her, it was like he had some magical power over her that no one else ever had.

It was Freya's passing comment that risked breaking her walls to bring forth her rage, but Theia kept herself intact. It was what she was trained to do, but the Prince and Princess had a way of testing her. She didn't understand why the Princess was being so cruel towards her. The knight already tried to dismiss any worries that she had regarding the Prince, and yet she still was insulted repeatedly by Freya. The fact the Princess was still trying to throw daggers just told Theia that Freya must not be as confident as the air she gave off if she felt like she still needed to go after a 'low brow whore'. It shouldn't even be a competition if that was true.

Theia was still split and baffled by the matter. She had an instinctive need for the Prince, but that very need kept risking her mission. For some reason, she could only bury and not truly banish her real feelings around the Prince. It had become increasingly more difficult since the intimate moments she shared with the Prince and since the Princess arrived. It was maddening, and she was forced to keep it to herself.

The pair mounted their horse, and Theia didn't look up at them. She hated to see them together, so she kept her eyes straight ahead. "As long as you don't go too fast, I'll keep up, or I might need a horse of my own." As the horse started to trot, Theia walked by the animal's side.

The knight couldn't help but to notice it was peaceful here, quiet. She wouldn't need to protect the Prince and Princess from much, especially with the sun up, but the setting reminded her of when the Whispers slew the real Theia. She was on her horse, traveling on a trail in the woods towards the city, and that was when another blonde had stolen her entire world. Her thinking branching off, she thought about the real Theia and the Princess changing places. It would be easy, too easy, but, oh, what a joy that would be to strike her down and let her blood soak into the soil instead. The thought alone brought enough pleasure to the knight, a smile crept on her face. If only... but she needed to behave.

A blunt gust of wind tickled her face just enough to snap Theia out of her violent daydream, and her smile faded away at the remembrance of the cold reality. She needed to focus on the good she could bring Luron, not what woman the enemy Prince would be tied to. Sadly, that was easier said than done.

"The weather is rather nice." Her golden eyes look up to the clear sky, trying to shift the energy around the trio. "No sign of rain. Good day for a date." Yuck, just saying that out loud made Theia feel sick.

This could be MY date!
Shut up and get over it already! At least I know I can feel these things, I'll find someone else... something else.
But what if I can't?! What if he is the ONLY one who can and that BITCH takes him?! She doesn't even make him HAPPY!
Or will she...?​

The thought of the Prince being the only one... the thought of the Princess making the Prince happy after all the effort the Knight put into it... it all almost broke her heart again. Her eyes stung with tears she refused to shed. She wondered if she ever find inner peace about the whole ordeal. Theia sighed and kept looking up at the blue overhead as if hoping for a sign or message that she knew would never come. This sucked.

 

[Chevalier]

The Prince loathed his position, having been placed into a marriage not of his choosing. But why was he so upset? He was a Prince, after all. It should have been a natural expectation for him to wed a Princess, to be married to someone worthy of helping him continue on the Imperial dynasty. Freya was a beautiful woman from a powerful family, one that might one day prove to be a loving and capable Queen. So why, why was there this feeling that was festering inside of him, weighing down his heart and drawing out weakness from within him? As the two rode through the nearby forest, the Prince's gaze shifted from the Princess' back to the woman that trailed beside them: towards Theia. It was then that he understood his answer. It wasn't because he loved Theia, nor was it because he didn't love the Princess. The answer was far more simple...

It was because he wanted to be in control.

The woods were quiet as always, a gentle breeze passing between the wonderous trees that surrounded them. Their great masses of branches and bark veiled overhead, casting away the sun's light and shrouding them underneath their shadows. "I didn't know the Empire could be so beautiful." The Princess would turn back towards the Prince and smile, "Thank you for taking me out and showing me the countryside. It's quite difficult to imagine that this is going to be my home as well, soon." In just two more days they would be married, whether Tristan wanted to be or not. "I feel as if two days couldn't possibly come sooner." A single hand was raised to the Prince's cheek, the dainty appendage running across his handsome jawline. "Perhaps we might consummate our marriage early." She leaned inwards, before pressing her lips up against Tristan's own. The Princess' plush pillows were firmly held against the Prince's, the soft crackle of kissing emanating between them. Her lips lingered for longer than the Prince hoped, though he did not pull away. This was to be his future, to be married to this woman, his future Queen.

It was only natural to surrender to it, wasn't it?

The kissing was eventually broken by a sudden disturbance, a rustling from deeper in the treeline. Emerging from the nearby hedges was a man in ragged clothes and a homely, unkempt appearance. Finally finding an excuse to break away from the kiss, Tristan immediately noticed the blade that was sheathed at the man's hip and the bow strung across his back. Though hunters in these forests weren't uncommon, it wasn't often that one carried a longsword to hunt. "Well, well. What do we have here?" The stranger spoke in a gruff, hoarse voice. As he spoke, several more similarly dressed men appeared from behind him, quickly affirming Tristan's suspicions. Bandits. Thieves. Cutthroats. Whatever they were, it quickly became clear that they were here for bad reasons. "Two women? What a lucky man, you must be."

"Don't worry, we'll take very good care of them for you." The man's comment was followed by cackles from the rest of the men, each of which carried a variety of different weapons.

"D-do you even know who we-" Before Freya could finish her sentence, Tristan threw his hand over her mouth, silencing her words into a muffle. Clearly, telling a group of highwaymen that they've stumbled into royalty wasn't the best idea.

"I would suggest you leave. We don't want any trouble." Tristan remarked, replacing the Princess' words with his own. But the Prince wasn't naïve enough to actually believe that the three of them were going to get out of this so easily.

Tristan's dark eyes immediately searched his surrounding area, looking for a quick escape from their predicament. It was only then that he noticed that there were more of them in the trees, catching the glimpse of a bandit notching an arrow into his bow from above. They had fallen deep into a trap. He would have cursed himself for not paying better attention, if his mind hadn't already been racing with options. With standing their ground out of the question, he wondered if it would be possible for them to flee in the opposite direction. The problem was, Theia would never be able to outrun all of them on foot. They only had one horse, which wouldn't be enough to carry three people to safety.

But despite having weighed all of his options, the thought of leaving Theia to the wolves had never crossed the Prince's mind. Not even for a single moment.

"Freya." The Prince grabbed the Princess' wrists, guiding them to the reins of their horse. "Grab these and never let go, do you understand?"

"Wh-why?" She stuttered as she was made to grip upon the leather straps. Dainty pupils began to widen when the Prince suddenly began to dismount from their horse, his feet landing upon the ground before reaching back behind the horse. "Wh-what are you doi-" Before the Princess could finish her question, Tristan smacked the back of the horse, "...i-INNNNNG?!" The steed jolted forward into a full sprint, charging towards the bandits at full speed.

"Shit!" One of the bandits screeched as the horse veered into their ranks, sending many of the armed thieves jumping out of the way to avoid being trampled underneath the charging horse. It was only a few moments later that the Princess had disappeared, her horse sending her back in the direction of their carriage.

"Let's go!" Tristan grabbed Theia by the wrist, giving her a short tug to encourage her to follow him. Without wasting their opportunity to escape, Tristan charged through the group of men, who were still in disarray after being scattered by the horse. He ran past the group, darting into the trees while the bandits quickly began to chase after them. As they ran, several arrows flew past them, lodging themselves into nearby trees as they weaved through the nearby foliage. "Stay with me, Theia!" He ran so quickly that he didn't even draw the sword from his waist, having no intention of getting into a fight with so many men.

"Don't let them escape!" The bandits stumbled to grab the weapons that they had dropped, before falling hot on the pair's tails.

Apart from getting Princess Freya to safety, the Prince hadn't thought his plan very far ahead. They continued to run, only a few seconds ahead of the men that chased after them. It seemed as if the bandits were going to catch up to them, until Tristan saw his opportunity: a rock formation that they could use to hide. After dipping through a line of bushes and breaking their line of sight, Tristan pushed himself behind the corner of a large rock. Wedged deep into a hidden crevice, the Prince would find himself rather well concealed to anyone chasing after them. He waited until Theia caught up to him before his hand reached outwards, grabbing the Knight once more before forcefully pulling her into his makeshift hiding spot.

"Shhh." He placed his hand over her lips as his other wrapped around her lower waist, pulling her body against him. There wasn't much room in the cave-like formation, but unfortunately, they hadn't been left with many options. Tristan held her close, forcing the side of her face to press firmly into his chest, enough so that she would be able to hear the steady tempo of his heartbeat. It wouldn't be nearly as fast one might have anticipated from an adrenaline rush. It was surprisingly slow... calm, even, as if the Prince wasn't afraid of dying. Even when the sound of footsteps could be heard edging closer and closer, the beating of his heart didn't quicken.

"Where the hell did they go?" One of the bandits shouted, "I- I don't know! I lost them around this bend!"

"I think they went this way!" Another remarked, until everything had fallen quiet once again.

Tristan waited several more minutes, listening carefully for any unnatural sounds around them. Once he was confident that they were finally gone, his eyes hovered down towards Theia. "You alright?" His voice hung into a low whisper, though his tone still held genuine concern. He was only partially referring to everything that had just happened, while at the same time, indirectly asking how she currently felt as well, even if it was too vague for her to realize it. His hand was still nestled behind her back, the other drawing upwards to brush the top of her golden locks. "You have every right to be upset with me." Tristan sighed, "I... I never intended for you to get wrapped up in all of this..."​

 

[Passion]

Theia had let her guard down too soon. She hadn’t thought anyone else would be here. The day was still young, and she didn’t sense anyone was around, but the knight was dead wrong. They were approached by some bandits, and Theia noticed a few seconds too late since she was avoiding watching the kiss being shared. It infuriated her. The last lips that he touched were no longer hers! However, she could use that rage to her strength. She wanted to unleash her fury on these bandits, a fire of her own, maybe then she would feel the relief she so desperately needed. She let her hand hover near the hilt of her sword as she planned her attack to get the job done quickly and brutally. However, her stomach dropped when she took notice of others in the distance. She also knew the odds were stacked against the trio, but if Theia was to fall here, she wouldn’t do so without taking some of the bastards down with her.

She let the Prince take the lead in the situation; there was a better chance he knew how to handle the matter in his own empire, but the bandits didn’t look like they were the type to get turned away so easily. When the Princess was forced away by steed, Theia couldn’t help but to grumble with truth even in this dangerous moment. “Should have let them have her.” She spoke freely since she knew the Princess didn’t make him happy to the point she could practically see it. If he had given up the Princess, it would have been an easy way to get out of it all. Sure, maybe the King would have some harsh words for their inability to protect, but with no Princess, no marriage. Simple. Of course, there was more to it, wedding the Princess was the logical thing to do, but emotions were running high in the knight to see gray.

Either way, none of it would matter if they didn’t get out of this alive. That’s exactly why she took his lead and bolted. The odds against them were far too high. They needed to make a run for it. Her armor slowed her down some, but Theia was exceptionally fast since her class highly depended on speed. She ran with him, keeping up with his pace as they were both trained, unlike the dainty Princess. She had no idea where they were going, she didn’t know these lands, but at least Tristan saw an opportunity to hide, and so Theia was yanked towards a towering rock.

Other than some heavy breathing, Theia remained silent. When she heard some voices, she even held her breath. It wasn’t just speed that she was skilled in. While they hid, Theia couldn’t help but notice how close their bodies were. There was an uncontrolled surge in her between their closeness after all they've been through and the fact she just ran for her life. Her blood was pumping, and she couldn’t tell if her heart was still pounding from the run or if it was all because of him.

The voices and presences of their enemies gone as well as the Princess, she found herself alone with him. “I’m fine.” She tried to squirm her way out of the small opening between him and the rock, but it was a bit difficult without his aid. She was halted by his words about not wanting her to get pulled in. Her heart became heavy at the thought. “All I have to say is you should have also listened to me the night I told you to only see me as your Knight.” She could play the ‘I told you so’ card repeatedly, but that didn’t change the history. They both were marked by each other in ways that couldn’t easily be shaken off. He wanted control and happiness, she wanted personal freedom that she didn’t even know existed until she met him and indulgence of that fire of his that she was ever-so fixated on. They could give each other what they desired and even more, but both of their duties caused conflict. It was as if fate was playing a cruel joke on them both.

“Let’s find the Princess before does something foolish like cry out for you.” She could picture the Princess luring the wrong kind of attention, although she still loved the idea of the bandits getting rid of her rival in a game she wasn’t allowed to take part in for as long as the Princess played. She also needed to escape this closeness. She was trying to stomp out any and all metaphysical fires he set in her to free her from the pain of hatred and sorrow. Allowing herself to be sparked by him now would surely be self-sabotage despite her desire to get utterly wrapped up in him once more.

 

[Chevalier]

​

Theia's response was coarse but expected, once again redrawing the separation between Knight and Prince. It was only a single sentence, yet Tristan could feel the scolding that practically oozed from between her lips. Yes, it was his actions that brought them to this impasse, but that didn't mean that Theia was completely innocent, either. He remembered the feminine, wanton squeals that emanated from her needy vocal cords when he ran his tongue between her legs, along with the way her pupils lovingly dilated upon having the opportunity to pleasure him. He was disappointed. Partly because he would never witness such raw passion ever again, but also because she would never truly belong to him.

“Should have let them have her.”​

The thought had certainly dwelled through Tristan's mind before Theia had even said it, after all, without Princess Freya, then Tristan would no longer be forced to marry against his will, right? If only things had been so simple. "This has nothing to do with Freya." He knew that defending the Princess might only upset Theia further, but she needed to know that this was his fault, not hers. If Theia was to place blame on anyone, then it should have been on him. "There's hundreds of other suitable Princesses that my father could force me to wed. If not Freya, then there would have been another." He didn't want to talk about their situation anymore. There was still two more days until he would be married off to a woman that he did not love. Until then, the Prince was free from such obligations.

She was close to him. Oh so close. The sort of dangerous closeness that spurred all of the Prince's worst desires, causing him to blur the lines of Knight and Prince once more. When she attempted to writhe free from their position, the Prince didn't aid her. Instead, she would feel his hands tightened their grip upon her silhouette, pulling her tighter against the center of his hard chest and drawing their bodies even closer together. He didn't want to let her go... at least not yet.

"You're jealous, aren't you?" The corners of his lips edged upwards into a playful smirk, that same, stupid smile that always seemed to emerge whenever he was planning on doing something he shouldn't. His dark eyes fixated upon her, staring deep into those shimmering gemstones that stared back at him. "I see the way that you look at the Princess. You look at her with the same, spiteful glare that you saw in me yesterday." Surely she would be able to recall the hatred that filled his handsome gaze back in the arena. It was that, possessive glare that landed them into so much trouble already. Now, those very same emotions filled Theia's eyes.

"You're jealous." He reaffirmed, regardless if Theia would attempt to deny it from him. She didn't need to confirm it, the Prince already knew that he was right. He could see it in her eyes, the way that her heart continued to quicken its pace despite now being safe, beating ever faster as his grip around her waist tightened. "I was horrible to you." His portrait leaned closer, a smile still etched from one stubborn cheekbone to another, until the tip of his nose brushed gently over hers. "I accused you... hurt you..." He paused so that one of his hands could slink upwards to her chin, carefully crooking her eyes upwards. "... raped you." His hand fell from her chin, fingers opening to capture her thin neck underneath his grip once again. As his hand took her dainty windpipe, he could once again see the marks he had left all over her flesh, those little love bites his lips and teeth clawed into her skin, corrupting their once pinkish hue. They were his little marks of ownership over her, a small reminder that she still belonged to him, whether she wanted to or not.

"And yet, the only thing you can think of is that you want more." His grip around her neck tightened, calloused fingertips digging deeper and deeper, until his ears were once again graced with that sweet melody of choking that he loved oh so much. "You love it, - being treated like my little possession..." A dark chuckle emanated from within, the Prince biting at his lower lip as his mind began racing with perverse thoughts once again, as if he had yet to learn his lesson. "For two more days, you belong to me. After that, I will have you sent back to Vrey. You will never have to see me again." The hand that pulled her waist into his shifted suddenly, carefully making its way from back to front before dipping between her exposed thighs. "For two more days... I am Master. Do you understand?" His grip tightened even further, as if trying to squeeze out the woman that lurked deep within Theia's heart. His hand would continue to tighten, burning out what oxygen remained in her lungs until the knight would finally give him the answer that he was searching for.

It wouldn't be until he would hear her response that his hand around her neck would loosen, allowing her to breathe fresh air once more. But if she thought that everything was over, she was sorely mistaken. The hand that had dipped between her legs was now reaching up underneath her armored skirt, once again finding that sensitive womanhood that yearned to be abused by her Prince... by her Master. The tip of his fingers pressed ever so slightly up against her womanly folds through her underwear, but rather than stroking at her needy entrance, they paused. "Go on." The Prince grinned once again, giving pause before elaborating on exactly what it was that he wanted, "Grind against them." He wanted to feel how badly she needed him, to listen to her hungry mewls as she rubbed herself desperately against his strong fingers.

"Oh, my love, where are you?! Tristan?!"​

That wretched, familiar voice shrilled from the nearby tree line, once again pulling the Prince back to reality. "My Prince, can you hear us?!" The sound of rustling footsteps could be heard, the clatter of armored soldiers undoubtedly searching for the lost Prince. The mischievous grin that was welded to his lips soon disappeared, the Prince bringing his hands away from Theia before pressing her from the hidden rock formation. Upon emerging from the rocks, the royal search party immediately recognized them. "There you are! I was so worried!" Princess Freya ran to the Prince, arms widened to embrace him.

"Ah, I don't think that's a good idea. I'm quite dirty now, my Princess." Tristan waved, motioning to the dirt that now dusted over his uniform. "I apologize for sending you away. I trust that you aren't hurt?"

"I'm fine, only because you were so brave. Luckily, the guards heard me screaming and managed to stop the horse for me." She laughed, before turning her attention towards Theia, "I'm surprised you didn't just leave her. But I suppose that's to be expected of my noble fiancé~" She paused, before shooting the knight a glare of her own. "Leave no man behind, right?"

"It's getting late. I think that we should head back to the palace, don't you think?" With the Princess focused on Theia, Tristan also turned towards her. Slowly, he brought his hand to his lips... and when nobody was looking, his tongue rolled over the glistening nectar which had become interwoven between his fingertips. She tasted delicious.

​

The sun was beginning to fade over the western mountains by the time the carriage pulled back up to the Imperial Palace. Upon disembarking, the Prince turned towards his betrothed, "I enjoyed our time together, Princess. I'm looking forward to our wedding." He lied, "But there are many preparations that I have to make before our big day. So I think it would be best to separate, at least until tomorrow." Tristan dismissed himself from Princess Freya with a respectful bow as he waited for the Princess to respond. There was disappointment in her voice, but ultimately, she would end up allowing the Prince to leave. As he moved up the steps of the palace, he suddenly paused so that he could turn towards Theia.

"It's getting late. I'm going to clean myself and prepare for dinner. There is going to be a meeting in the council chambers shortly after that I must attend. You can have the next few hours to yourself, if you'd like. You can meet me either before or after the meeting." He leaned inwards, once again invading the Knight's personal space, "Don't keep me waiting." He whispered softly, his hand reaching up to brush the Knight's golden strands. From afar, the Princess noticed Tristan's public display of affection, her cheeks burning a shade of red as she began frothing at the sight. With that, Tristan disappeared into the palace, leaving Theia once again on her own.

 

[Passion]

The knight balled up her fists in anger at that thought of the princesses that would line up for him. It was hard not to see red, but she didn't need him for forever. He could wed, but she needed him long enough to sate herself and explore. She needed him to herself long enough to throw herself into his wildfires completely. Where her fate would go after that was unknown, but she assumed she would eventually head back to Luron, the place that was meant to be her home. It was difficult for Theia to react or speak on the matter, she knew it was all illogical, this wasn't part of her plan in the slightest, but that didn't change the fact she felt like she needed him.

She needed her space, she still hardly had the time to process anything from their first kiss to heartbreak, and yet there he was, pulling her close to him. The urge to cry was strong for a moment, she wanted to burst out and let him know how unfair this all was, how much it bothered her, and how much that certain part of her craved him like nothing else. She couldn't though, she was a knight and an assassin, and she wasn't hidden away in the privacy her room. It was still all so new and fresh, she was unable to make sense of it or even know what was right or wrong in the situation anymore. This confusion made her want to lean on him more, but what good would that do now?

Her eyes closed in pain when he said the word 'jealous'. Was that what part of these painful feelings were? Sure, she knew of the emotion, but it wasn't one that she felt until now, especially to this degree. Her eyes opened again, and she scanned his face. "Maybe." She was, but she also knew it wouldn't change anything. "If anything, she seems more jealous of me." That wasn't true, but the princess was the one who started their bitterness and allowed it to surface more. Theia could bite her tongue, if anything, she was good at it when not emotionally driven, but the princess kept taking low hits against her so some of her envy did leak. The knight added, "I'm more angry than anything."

Her breathing slowed when he leaned in to take a look at the evidence of what he had done to her. He reminded her bluntly of the devilish things he had done, and yet it was still obvious that she yearned for him greatly. If anything, there was a bittersweetness to it all. The more impactful he was, the more alive she felt. No, it didn't make sense on the surface, what he had been doing to her was wrong, but there was that instinct in Theia that knew she couldn't easily let him go. His hand found her slender neck, and she felt those dangerous butterflies in her fluttering. Her once slowing pulse picked up its pace, and he would surely feel it against her marked neck that he had claimed.

I need him. I need him so badly... Master...!
...but when did I become so selfish? I'm cursing a possible life long marriage to chase my own desires? ​

As his hand tightened around her neck to the point it was hard to breathe, her thoughts scrambled. She placed a hand on his forearm, but her touch was gentle. Almost, welcoming. With an impassioned haze glazing over her own gaze, as his impactful words threatened to submerge her. His possession? Yes, she wanted it, she wanted it badly if he could keep sparking her soul like this. However, her flourishing bliss was sliced through with a knife as he continued.

Two more days... Sent back to Vrey. ​

Her eyes widened at the weight of the reality that came crashing down on her. Her body started to struggle against his hold with vigor. No! She wanted to bargain, she wanted to protest, she wanted to run away to be alone... but his firm hold on her kept her in place. She didn't want to torture herself by becoming even more fixated on him to then be sent away! It was cruel! She tried to speak, but only soft gasping sounds could be heard from her. She reeked of desperation and personal dismay.

His hand boldly found its way between her legs, the fabric underneath damp from her blood rushing from their run, having him near, and even the conflict of feelings that raged within her. It was all adding fuel to her fury. He stilled his hand and commanded her. She obeyed, why... she didn't understand, but in actuality, she knew who she actually belonged to, and this might be one of her last chances to see a glimmer of that fire. She rocked her hips, trying to communicate how much she wished they could just forget about everything and simply be his, yet that dream was ruined by the call of the princess's voice. It felt just like being thrown into cold water. Fuck.

He moved away, and Theia gasped for air, and her golden eyes blurred with tears. His words had hurt her more than they had helped. He would be dangling what she desired before her and warned her it would all be snatched away in just days. She was far too lost in that brief moment to snap back or even glare at the princess for her sharp tongue. Tired and confused, Theia headed back to the palace with the pair with a heavier heart than what she started with.

----​

It was getting late, and the princess was dismissed, and Theia was about to go her separate way until the prince's voice stopped her. He leaned in close, that fluttering started to happen again, but she took a step back. Didn't he hurt her enough? She looked away from him, her body tensing up. She had enough time to think about the matter on their way back. Once again, she felt like she couldn't allow this to happen. "I cannot be yours for only two days..." Torture. "If I can't stop you from sending me away, I'll leave for Vrey in the morning. Thank you for giving me the chance to serve you as your knight." Theia was aware she could regret turning away two days. Plenty could happen in 48 hours, but after experiencing something like heartbreak for the first time, she was sick at the thought of getting hurt again in such a way. Would she even see him in the morning? If not, would she ever see him again? What if he is the ONLY ONE --- No... if he is sending me away, my mission is over. She turned away from him and let him take part in his duties before heading to her room. After all, she had her own.

Once the sun was down for a couple of hours, Theia knew it was about time to leave. While she could have left without being seen, sometimes hiding in plain sight was the best method. It wasn't all too late yet, the prince was busy and safe in meetings, and even if she was a knight, she still had some freedom of a personal life. She wrapped herself in a black cloak that she gathered from her room since she rather not be overly obvious, and the cloak would unlikely be questioned as it served as protection against the nightly chill as she wandered into the night.

She found the clearing of the forest the scroll had spoken about and scanned the dark tree line. Only a moment or two later, three figures stepped out into the small clearing all wrapped up in dark blue cloaks. Theia took a breath, she could tell by the frame of one of the figures, her father would be there to attend the meeting.

All three of them gather in front of Theia, but it was her father who spoke. "Blondie, report."

The spy spoke without delay. If she didn't belong to Tristan, she belonged to the Order of Whispers. "The empire admits they are spread thin to call any bluff against us. Attack now to start downsizing their territory, but earning too much of their ire is still unwise. The King as well of the prince of concerned about spies, but they don't seem to have any leads." Although Tristan did prove himself to have a knack for spotting her through her cover, she would leave that detail out. He hadn't been cornering on her too much on the subject as of late, and apparently, her time in the empire was limited. "There is also an arranged marriage about to take place between Prince Tristan and Princess Freya in two days." Theia looked down for a moment, that heavy heart of hers sent a shock of pain, but she looked back up to her father in obedience.

The man to the side who went by Silver shook his head. "We can't let that happen. That joined power would give the empire even more of an edge over us."

Blondie spoke up as Tristan's words earlier still haunted her. "But they will keep using marriage as a weapon even if we stop it. There are many princesses."

Renard, Blondie's father, who also went by Phantom sighed heavily. "We should have seen that one coming. It is fine as long as we have a way to infiltrate, we can make it seem each wedding is cursed if we stay on top of this. We won't let it ever succeed or become lasting. We will make it that that entire horrid family is scared to wed." There was a hope in Theia brewing, one that her father saw. His eyes narrow on his daughter in concern. "Blondie, we have watched you from the sidelines, it looks like you been getting close to the prince. We assume that this is only a tactic of yours, correct?"

"O-of course! I have to install false trust by an-any means necessary." She cleared her throat. She usually wasn't one to start stuttering around the Order, but emotions were involved. Emotions that she was banned to have. The exact reason why she was so driven about Tristan, having that untouched part of herself touched was far too sweet. "Excuse me, I haven't been sleeping too well." She tried to cover her tracks, but luckily for her, her father didn't push too much more.

He had been working with his daughter closely all her life. His daughter was trained to be cold, he never saw a spark in her other than from a job well done, and he assumed it would be silly for all that to start now; he thought it was too late for her to develop in such a way. Also, Luron hated the empire, and if anything, he felt bad that his daughter had to get close to such a monster. However, he didn't care enough about her to pull her from the mission. "Good."

"I do have something else to add... Prince Tristan plans to send me back to Vrey in two days." She lied, "He wants a knight that isn't a foreigner." She felt guilt for lying to the Whispers. She never had to, but if her father knew how emotionally involved she was, she may lose her right to one day take over. She felt like she could handle the matter on her own in time, and at this rate, soon she would be erasing herself again for whatever her next mission was, but could she even rid herself of the imprints the prince had made on her?

"Here are your orders." Phantom reached in his cloak and pulled out a vial of clear liquid. Theia knew exactly what it was. "Use it if fitting, and get rid of the princess. Next, do what you can to convince the prince to let you stay. Prove yourself like I know you can. If that doesn't work, take your trip back to 'Vrey'. It isn't ideal but we will adjust our plans. There is only so much we can push. Also, if anyone finds out where you are from, even the prince or the king himself, you are ordered to kill. If you are found out, I believe we both know how dire the consequences will be. Understood?"

Theia couldn't stop herself from shaking in thrill, although she would blame the chill. Poison the princess? Yes. She could do this, happily. She would poison any princess that she was allowed to that Tristan was forced to wed. If Freya was out of the picture, it would also buy her time. She would at least have more than two damn days with Tristan. However, she now knew she had to hide her true identity even more from Tristan. Orders to kill from the Whispers was a done deal. If he found out her truth, he would have the same fate, by her own hands. No, she couldn't even start to imagine it. One thing at a time. "I understand, and I'll do my best." She nodded her head and took the vial. "May I speak about the games and Luron's demands?"

"No, focus on your mission. We will be in contact and keeping an eye on things from afar. This is the most important mission you been on, Blondie. Don't disappoint us." With that said, her father turned away, his cloak billowing behind him. "Whisper." The men then walked off together without another word. They left Theia there in the forest alone. She was irritated she couldn't say her piece on the political matter. One day she would have the majority of the say, but still, she now got the golden order to kill. She was elated.

On her way back to the palace, Theia considered her options. She didn't know much about the princess, but she did seem to like her late morning tea. That would probably be easy enough to spike. Or I could shove the whole blade down her fucking throat. Or even at the wedding, there would be so much going on, it would be easy to lace her wine. Or I could tie up that whore and force feed it to her! Or... did she even need the poison? She hated the princess, couldn't she make her suffer instead? That would be messier, but... would that take away my pain? Theia stopped in her tracks for a moment to look up at the bright moon in the distance. There was a restlessness in her. Master... I'll give us more than two days and bring back your happiness tonight.

----​

It was late by the time she got back. The palace that was usually full of bustling people was eerily still as most were lost in the lands of dreams. A few knights held guard, but it was a quiet and peaceful night. Theia first went to her room. She stripped off of her clothing all but her white undergarments and placed back on her black cloak. Her heart was pounding; she never felt so invigorated to have a mission to kill. Usually, other than a basic rush, Theia didn't think much about ending a life if it was part of a mission or for her own protection, but this one... this one had her blood rushing. She had to take a few breathes just to stop herself from trembling. Theia went to her window and looked at the vial under the moonlight in thought.

It is the cleanest way to do it. Just wait until morning.
I'm ready now! Poison won't do. This is personal!
I'm more likely to get caught if I'm reckless about it!
I'll kill anyone who fucking sees me. ​

She squeezed the bottle in a last-second hesitation, but she tossed it out the window. It was no longer an option, and that gave her the freedom to follow her instincts. Theia grabbed her medium-sized dagger and concealed it under her cloak. Her mind went blank of wandering thoughts, as she exited her room into the empty hall with one person on her kill list that was highlighted and underlined. She headed towards the princess's guest bedroom and of course, there was a guard outside of her room. Theia peaked around the corner to survey the situation. She waited, and waited. The guard would eventually have to excuse himself for a rotation or bathroom break, and Theia was determined to wait in silence even if each second felt like a dozen. Sometimes to get the best kill, it took time. It took over an hour Theia of waiting, her senses perked just in case anyone walked up behind her, but eventually, the guard walked away to find his replacement. It was then that Theia went for it. Her barefeet left her soundless, as slipped over to the door and cracked it open just enough that she could sneak into the sleeping beauty's room.

Closing the door carefully behind her, she saw Freya there asleep. She was on her back, unconscious, and probably dreaming about HER Master. Slowly, Theia approached, it was critical that Freya didn't wake up, at least, not yet. Moving silently, Theia's slender body gets on to her bed and straddled the princess. Her body light as a feather, but her gaze down at the sleeping woman was intense. Leaning down, Theia did the unthinkable. She kissed the sleeping princess. She kissed her deeply to wake her up in a probably startled confusion. It was heated, but short-lived. As soon as Theia broke the kiss, her hand snapped towards the princess's face to cup her mouth. She pinned her muffled face down hard with her hand, so hard it felt like Theia was trying to use the mattress to cave in her face. She smirked down at the woman, as she now used her body weight to also keep the princess in place. "At least I'm able to get his kiss back from your lips and you get a second-hand taste of his cock before you die. I guess you get exactly what you wanted in the end, Princess." Her other hand reached in her cloak, and with skilled speed and sim, as soon as she unsheathed her blade, she sliced a deep gash right into the princess's throat. Blood poured onto the sheets and blankets of the bed all while Theia held the princess's mouth and smiled down at her until the flame of life was snuffed out of Freya's eyes.

The princess was no more, but Theia still felt so much rage. She didn't want the princess just dead, she wanted her destroyed for how much getting between her and Tristan hurt her. It was wrong! It was unfair! If the prince could burn with violent fire, it was her turn. Theia scooted down the still-warm body and plunged her blade into the chest of the woman. Again and again, her blade summoned royal crimson as the violent assault didn't stop once it got started. Her stomach, her chest, her limbs... it lacked sense. Theia submerged the knight wildly and blindly into the woman. She wanted to pierce the woman's very soul. It was a blissful and unhinged blur to the assassin, she wanted her rival's funeral to be a closed casket by the time she was done with her. Soft thuds could be heard coming from the room, as Theia didn't stop stabbing until she was out of breath. She left the helpless and now dead princess mutilated by the passion that she had for Tristan. It was a message. One that she wasn't ordered to send, one that many would overlook, but it was the strength of her obsession. Anyone else who dared to take Freya's spot while she was fixated would meet the same end.

I need to leave! I need to get the fuck out of here! ​

There was no time to savor her violent masterpiece or take in the mistake she might have made by not making sure the job was clean. Her father would be disappointed, but that was only if she was caught. Theia was covered in blood, but she did not care unless she was spotted. She opened up the Princess's window to make it look like someone had crawled in to murder her, and went to the door. With the side of the face to the floor, she didn't see the shadow of the guard. It was risky to step out, a guard could be right around the corner to take his place, but it didn't matter. She would kill him too. Her reasoning was simple thanks to the Whispers who ordered her to kill anyone who found out about her, she would make sure no witnesses could breathe a word about it. She took off her cloak that was dripping in blood, held it close to prevent leaving a trail, and now left in just her white bra and panties with bloodstains that had soaked through her cloak, Theia exited the room and ran. No one was there, her feet were light. She needed to get somewhere safe, and instead of going to her own room, she ended up in front of Tristan's door.

It was unguarded. It was her job still to guard him for at least two more days, but that would now be extended if this all went how she had hoped. It was late and he probably was asleep as well unless he was restless about his meeting and what she had said earlier. Either way, in her fervor, she let herself in while hardly dressed and some fresh blood splatter on her cheek to her thighs, She broke through the silence of the night with her confession. "I did it, Master." Theia dropped her bloody dagger on the floor and started to giggle. "I gave us more time until the next princess. I did the unspeakable to make you happy again. Are you proud of me?" She was not in her right mind. Theia had always been careful unless pushed, but there she was, literally red-handed in his room, but she still hid under the cover of now an overly devoted, and now possibly crazy knight. "You don't have to send me back now. I'm yours." Of course, anyone in their right mind would lock up the unhinged woman for whatever her mission was at this point, but she did it all for him. For them. Her pleasurable and wrathful passion for him drove her to this. That need. Would be fear her, or embrace her for her wild devotion to her Master? She didn't know, but something felt right about murdering the princess, about running to him even if it was all wrong.

[End] ​