i sit, lounging tiredly on my throne, my back sinking into the slik, tipping my head up to the painted ceiling. i call out lazily to one of my guards i want to see my wife, bring her to me. they nod, and i wait patiently. the doors open, and i look towards it, my eyes locking onto you. your dress trails behind you as you approach me. i keep my gaze cold and hard as i observe you
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