Pain.
"Your son is dead."
"No, my child. Where's my child? That is not true!"
A slap quickly landed on her face.
"Get a grip on reality!"
Hatred.
"You killed my family!"
"How can you be so certain that it was me who did it?"
Wrath.
"How dare you threaten me?!"
"Of course, I'd dare to, why wouldn't I?"
Her smirk gradually spread across her face.
Melancholy.
"These days...are bleaker than midnight."
"Your Highness...please do not be like this."
Pleasure.
"Seduce me," he said, grinning.
Infatuation.
"I grant you the title as my closest companion. Show some gratitude will you?"
Obsession.
"You are mine, Ciara; no one can ever take you away from me, do you understand?"
He turned her around to face him. "Answer me."
Power.
"Your Majesty, although you sit on the throne, the crown is mine."
Love.
And he saw her, her face tilting up, the sunlight kissing her forehead and cheeks, a smile on her enchanting countenance...and he thought then, how could someone be so prepossessing? How was it possible that his heart constricted both in pain and joy, whenever he gazed at her? Yet his heart would not admit it.
YOU ARE READING
Coinquinatus (Tale of South Demosthan)
General FictionThe palace was a place of contrasts, where love and hate, joy and pain, hope and despair, all coexisted. It was a place where anything was possible, the future was uncertain.
