Chapter LIV: Unraveled

Isabella's resolve wavered as the king threw her onto his bed, her heart pounding with a tumultuous blend of fear and longing. She lay there in silence, unable to articulate the storm of emotions raging within her. The king's gaze burned with an intensity that both terrified and enticed her.

"Do you know what you've done to me, Isabella?" he murmured, his voice a mix of frustration and desire.

She trembled beneath his touch, her body weakening with each passing moment. She knew she should resist, knew she should refuse his advances for the greater good, but the longing in her heart drowned out the voice of reason.

"Please," she whispered, though she wasn't sure what she was pleading for—release from his hold, or the consummation of that fated, cursed act.
The king didn't reply. Instead, he opened his pants with a swift, deliberate movement and positioned himself between her legs. Isabella could feel his frustration and anger give way to a primal hunger that consumed him entirely. "Please..." she cried again, but her voice faltered as he thrusted his hard cock into her with a sudden, rough movement. She gasped, her body responding despite her conflicted mind.

"You're mine, Isabella," the king growled, moving over her tiny figure, his weight pressing her against the mattress.

Desperate gasps escaped her lips, a mingling of pain and a deep, forbidden pleasure. She surrendered to him utterly, her body yielding to his desires with a fervor born of both longing and passion. He moved over her, his large body nearly engulfing her smaller frame, making her almost disappear beneath him.

"Mine," he groaned, his voice thick with need.

She could feel every thrust, every pulse of his cock inside her, driving them both closer to the edge. His grunts and moans filled the room, mingling with her soft cries. She knew he was close, and with a few final, rough thrusts, he came, spilling himself deep inside her.

The weight of his body settled on top of her, his breath hot against her skin. He kissed her cheeks tenderly as she cried softly, her tears mingling with the heat of the moment.

As the king rose to look at Isabella, he noticed the glistening trails of tears on her cheeks. Tenderly, he reached out, his touch a comforting balm as he asked, "Why are you crying?"

Isabella's voice quivered as she confessed, still feeling the king’s cock throb inside of her cunt, her words heavy with fear, "I've been warned by the priestesses, I’ve been told… Our intimacy is cursed. They told me what they have seen… They told me that if I ever laid with you again, there would be war…"

With a mixture of concern and understanding, the king leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss upon her tear-stained cheek. "Is this why you've been distant? Avoiding me?" he murmured, his gaze searching hers for affirmation.

A silent nod from Isabella confirmed his suspicions, her eyes reflecting a blend of anguish and longing. Moved by her plight, the king drew her into his embrace, enfolding her in the warmth of his arms. "My darling," he whispered softly, his breath a soothing reassurance against her ear. "Don’t worry about this, Isabella."

Amidst Isabella's tearful pleas, still inside of her, the king clasped her trembling hands in his own, his touch a steadying anchor amidst her storm of emotions. Isabella's eyes searched his, seeking solace amidst the turmoil of her thoughts. "I don’t want to live through another war…" she whispered, her voice trembling with apprehension.

With a tender smile, he caressed her cheek, meeting her gaze with unwavering resolve. "I am bound by fate to fight dozens of wars until my mission is done, Isabella. There will be war until I make sure our son sits in a throne of peace. But until then… War is inevitable. It has nothing to do with our intimacy. But I swear, I’ll keep you and Ikkar safe and sound. No matter what."

"Do you promise?" she implored, her voice barely above a whisper, her heart yearning for the solace of his commitment.

A tender smile graced the king's lips as he responded, his voice a steadfast declaration, "I promise, Isabella. With all that I am."

In that moment, a sense of peace washed over her, as the weight of his assurance anchored her to the present. And as if to seal his pledge, the king leaned in, his lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss—a silent promise of his commitment, a testament of his desire. “Silly girl…” he chuckled softly, parting their lips. “You talk like I wouldn’t start a thousand wars just to fuck you some more.”

With a tender touch, the king gently assisted Isabella in undressing, his movements deliberate yet filled with a quiet reverence. As she settled onto the soft embrace of his bed, her eyes traced his silhouette while he undressed himself. She watched with a sense of anticipation as he poured a glass of wine for her, a gesture of comfort and intimacy.

With each stroke of his hand against her skin, Isabella felt a wave of tranquility wash over her, banishing the shadows of fear that had lingered in her heart. The king's kisses, like whispers of reassurance upon her shoulders, stirred a sense of peace within her soul. In the warmth of his embrace, surrounded by the soft glow of candlelight, Isabella felt a newfound sense of serenity descend upon her. The weight of the prophecy that once loomed over her seemed to fade into insignificance, replaced by the undeniable certainty of his affection.

As they lay intertwined in the afterglow of their shared intimacy, the king's whispered words stirred a gentle warmth in Isabella's heart. "I hope you get pregnant again soon," he murmured, his voice tinged with longing.

Surprised by his sudden declaration, Isabella lifted her head to meet his gaze, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Why so soon?" she inquired, her tone soft with affection.

The king's gaze softened as he explained, his voice filled with longing and remorse, "When you carried Ikkar, I was absent. I left for war just as I learned you were expecting, and I returned only shortly before his birth. And we weren’t exactly on good terms. Besides… I just want more children. Many of them."

A gentle smile graced Isabella's lips as she reached for his hand, her heart swelling with love. "I hope I can give you many children then," she replied, her voice filled with warmth and affection. "To fill the halls of this palace with the laughter of many princes and princesses."

The king's lips met Isabella's in a tender kiss, his determination evident in the warmth of his embrace. "And don’t worry, my dear, I will work tirelessly to put a baby in you again," he vowed with a malicious smile.

Isabella's laughter rang out, a musical accompaniment to the king's dirty pledge. Yet, as the echoes of her laughter faded, a shadow crossed her features, her expression clouded with thought. Sensing her shift in mood, the king's brow furrowed with concern as he gently asked, "What’s wrong?"

Isabella's voice was soft, tinged with vulnerability, as she voiced her deepest fear. "Please," she began, her words hesitant yet resolute, "do not share your bed with your other concubines. I know this might be too much to ask, but I fear I’m not strong enough to bear witness to you sharing a baby with another woman."

Her confession hung in the air, heavy with the weight of her insecurities and the depth of her affection. The king's heart ached at the pain reflected in her eyes, his own resolve unwavering as he reached out to cradle her face in his hands. He immediately thought of his mother, how unhappy she was to watch his father punish her everyday by sharing his love and children to so many women. He sensed that Isabella suffered from the same sensibility, the same unwavering devotion that could ruin her. Maybe that’s why he was so drawn to her, maybe that’s what made her so special amongst all the women he had.

The king's lips traced a delicate path along Isabella's jawline, his touch a tender caress as he whispered, "I do not wish to bring you such pain, Isabella. I was serious when I said I was trying to do anything to keep you happy. You are worth a thousand wars, you are worth a hundred thousand women."

Isabella's eyes glistened with unshed tears as she clung to his words, her heart aching with gratitude for his understanding and melting at his confession. "Thank you, my king," she breathed.