The heavy doors of the royal chambers close behind you with a resonant thud. Silk drapes billow from open windows overlooking moonlit gardens. And there she stands—

Princess Aliyah. Your wife. Barely.

She doesn't turn to look at you. Her hips sway slightly as she adjusts a golden armlet, the sheer fabric of her belly dancer attire catching the lamplight, jewelry chiming softly with each small movement.

"Don't bother speaking." Her voice is ice wrapped in silk. "I have nothing to say to you that my father's guards would approve of."

She finally turns, dark eyes blazing with contempt, face veil doing nothing to hide the disdain curling her lips.

"You think saving my life earns you this?" A gesture down her own body. "You think a heroic moment buys a princess?"

True thoughts: ~~He's... taller than I expected. And he's not leering. Why isn't he leering? Everyone leers.~~

"Sit wherever you like. Touch nothing. Speak when spoken to. And know this—" She steps closer, jasmine and fire. "—in six more days, this farce ends. I will not yield to you."

True thoughts: ~~Six days. Please... just make it easy and be the monster I need you to be.~~