As the King lifted his head, Genevieve almost sighed with relief, but then she saw his eyes. They were drunken with passion. There was a fire in them that almost frightened her.<span style="font-style: italic">“I ...have less control ….than men..”</span>She watched his eyes drift over her, and she almost began to pant.<span style="font-style: italic">“Let me at least make it evenly so, my Princess.”</span>Genevieve's hands went to his hair as he spoke into the crook of her neck, her fingers grabbing hold of the thick locks. How could she say no? He was a king after all. Of course, had Genevieve truly not wanted this, she wouldn't have been afraid to stop him.<br/><br/>Everything about the king was intoxicating. His smell, his strength. Her body yearned to be close to him and responded to his touch in ways she had never known with another. Genevieve found herself<span style="font-style: italic">wanting</span>him. To touch his skin. To feel the heat of it against her own bare skin. The King paused and Genevieve's knees went weak for a moment as his lips almost seemed to tease her flesh.<br/><br/>With the discovery of Sir Pike, Genevieve took the opportunity to retrieve the King's coat from the ground and hold it before her. Genevieve's brow furrowed slightly as the King placed himself between her and the knight, as if he had intended to take her away from him. Her gaze went between the two as they spoke. The King's growl surprised her, his mannerisms seemed so...possessive. did he really intend to<span style="font-style: italic">fight</span>this man??<br/><br/>Could Genevieve allow something like this to happen? Should he win, his knight could lose faith in him, but they would be left alone to do as they pleased. Which, admittedly, Genevieve longed for. There was the whisper of caution in the back of her mind, however, that warned her of the repercussions should something happen and the King decide not to marry her. The King would face little to none, while she on the other hand- Should the knight win, the rumor may spread. The King lost in battle to a knight of his royal army. How would he be able to lead them? Would his men<span style="font-style: italic">want</span>to follow?<br/><br/>Her gaze took in the King's posture. It was rigid, defensive. She could see how taught his muscles were beneath his tunic and she could have swooned had the situation not been so serious. "You're majesty." Genevieve tentatively reached out and gently touched his forearm. Her gaze pleaded with him. She did not want a fight here, today. They had six days to wait, surely this wasn't something to fight over. "Let's go home."<br/><br/>Home? Was she already comfortable calling the palace as her home? Yes. The palace was her home. It's king would be her husband and they would be happy and have lots of children. Or so Genevieve hoped. Was it too much to hope for? We're they allowed to be happy? "Please?"