Myrah Sanchez, a woman whose blood drums in rhythm when she holds her sword, married Jimin to gain her retribution. Unfortunately for him, it was his close people who were about to meet their end. Even when he banned her, she grew wild enough to kil...
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Myrah's pov (Continuation)
"Nothing... except for my unfortunate uncertainty afflicting not only mine but also my dead companions. As the prince, I was not permitted to converse with any ignoble birth. Under the regime of my stepmom, none did. And the one I spoke with too, was exterminated. I then returned to the capital and took a force of the kingdom.
What shall I say? Should I laugh or cry? My life so far has been forlorn until now that I have you.
"My story is dull, isn't it? Tell me, Myrah, do you love me?"
I don't.
"I do. You are my everything. I feel frankly awful to not be with you when you ached for a mate, elucidates your poor socialism, and your clutch and close faith in your family. You were driven too, Jimin."
All you wanted was to be loved, you have bedazzled yourself to centralize on who should treasure you and whom to convict, my boy.
"What about your family, Myrah? I have not encountered them up until, shall we meet your father the day next? You must have missed them," he asked.
My family? Yes.
"I do, I miss my dad. He has been unhealthy for all these years. He has retired from his aristocratic status, and my brother is in charge of it."
"I have heard of your brother, although I would love to see him one day," he trailed off. Of course, you know him! Namjoon must have informed you.
"I miss him so bad. Jimin... can we go to my household on the day of Chuseok? Please?" I asked as his crescent moon eyes closed, with a brief smile on his face, he nodded.
How do I pity this man? I waddled his hair and played with his downy soft hair.
"My brother will be visiting the border today. I will go there to welcome my dear brother. Would you fancy coming with me? My Queen?"
"I am afraid I will not be able to, Jiminaah. I should be here to take care-" a bitter taste pooled in my jaws as I felt something gushing from my gut.
I closed my mouth as I stood up. I scampered to the door as my mouth gagged, trying to push it all out of my abdomen. I grunted painfully as Jimin came near me. I groaned again, unable to hold myself, and I vomited on the rug. Holding my chest, I bend down.
Jimin held my forehead from the back. "It will be alright," he whispered as I felt the burning spice rise to my nose. I puked more. And then raised my head, Jimin soothingly stroked my back as my maid came inside,
"Bring hot water and a towel," he mandated. In a few seconds, my maid returned with it.
Jimin made me sit on the bed and dabbed my face with the wet towel. I took lengthy breaths. Jimin brought the cup of warm water to my lips, and I drank it slowly.
