Chapter XV: Blossoms
With determination in her heart, Isabella ventured into the tranquil gardens surrounding the Harem, her eyes scanning the lush foliage for any remnants of flowers she could repurpose. However, the garden had been thoroughly picked clean by the other concubines, leaving little behind.
Desperate to find something to adorn her plain dress, Isabella's gaze fell upon a secluded bush of gardenias nestled near the babbling stream. With a surge of hope, she approached the bush and was relieved to discover a few blossoms still clinging to the branches.
Carefully, she plucked the delicate white flowers, their sweet fragrance filling the air as she gathered them into her arms. Not stopping there, Isabella also collected a handful of verdant leaves, envisioning how they would complement the blossoms in her makeshift costume.
With her arms laden with the precious blooms, Isabella hurried back to the Harem, her heart racing with excitement at the prospect of transforming her plain dress into something beautiful. As she entered the now-empty halls, she couldn't wait to begin her task, eager to infuse her attire with the enchanting essence of the gardenias she had so carefully gathered. Maybe her dress wouldn't turn out perfect, but she couldn't let Lady Dara's childness ruin a date that was always so special to her. She refused to be humiliated by her or any girl in the harem.
As Isabella descended the grand staircase, the atmosphere shifted, the murmurs of the crowd growing louder as all eyes turned to her. Adorned in her simple white dress embellished with cascading gardenias, she exuded an ethereal beauty that captivated all who beheld her.
The vibrant green leaves complemented the fiery hue of her hair, while the pristine white blossoms added an air of innocence to her ensemble. Despite the revealing cut of her dress, there was an undeniable purity and grace about her, accentuated by the delicate floral adornments.
Silence fell over the courtyard as the crowd took in the sight before them, their whispers of awe mingling with the soft rustle of the gardenias adorning Isabella's attire. Even the king, who had been reveling in the festivities, was momentarily struck speechless by her radiant presence.
As Isabella reached the bottom of the staircase, a hushed reverence seemed to settle over the court, each person held captive by her mesmerizing beauty.
As Isabella descended the grand staircase, the king's eyes traced her every movement, captivated by her ethereal presence. The soft glow of candlelight played upon her porcelain skin, casting a delicate radiance that seemed to envelop her in an aura of otherworldly beauty.
Her gown, a vision in white adorned with cascading gardenias, hugged her curves in all the right places, marking her beautiful, sculpted breasts. Its fabric whispered softly with each step she took. The subtle scent of the blossoms wafted through the air, mingling with the heady fragrance of incense and the sound of music that filled the palace halls.
The king's heart quickened as she drew nearer, his gaze fixated on her with a mixture of desire and frustration. He longed to possess her, to deflower her, to make her his own, yet he knew he couldn’t do it just yet. Isabella was his greatest enemy’s daughter. He defeated her father, he would never allow his daughter to be the mother of his first heir. Ever since he imprisoned her, he knew he wanted to take her, deflower her and breed her. But she couldn’t bear his first son, ever. It made his blood boil in rage to think of his enemy’s grandson sitting on his throne, the throne he conquered. So he had to wait… And the wait was killing him, as Isabella seemed to grow into a more desirable and beautiful woman with each passing day.
A wave of possessiveness washed over the Dragon King as he observed the admiring glances directed towards Isabella, each one a silent challenge to his authority. He wished he could pluck every eye ever laid on her, to banish all others from her presence and keep her sight for himself. He thought of sending her back to the Harem right away, but he wanted to keep looking at her as much as anyone who still had eyes. Instead, he decided to show everyone who she belonged to.
With a silent command, he beckoned her to join him in the dance, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that left no room for refusal. Despite her apparent nervousness, she acquiesced, her hand trembling slightly as it met his own.
As they moved together in the dance, the tension between them palpable, the king struggled to maintain his composure. He knew that indulging his desire for her would only complicate matters further, yet in that moment, as they swayed together in the flickering candlelight, he found himself a prisoner to her allure.
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