Peasantry

------- Her nails dig into my palm, piercing through the skin and drawing small beads of
blood from my hand. The blood sizzles and turns green against her talons. Another
hand of hers trails a burning path across my face, and I smell burning flesh. I scream
in agony, but it is never loud enough. Never more than a wheeze for help, a desperate
plea that goes unheard. ------

In which a princess is turned to a peasant, a fiery love turns sour, and a flashback brings it all crashing back.