Natalya barely flinched when he raised his hand to her the first time.  Some how she knew her words would have stopped him, but it's not like she hadn't been handled that way before.  Talking back was a habit her father had attempted to rid her of several times.  He had succeeded when it came to himself, but as far as Natalya was concerned every one else was fair game.  When he raised his fist to her though, she froze.  It was at the last moment she managed to attempt to block her face and a strangled cry came from her.  When she realized he hadn't touched her, she slowly put down her hands.  She was close to tears, unable to look up at him, her breathe heavy as she attempted to maintain control of herself, as he spoke.  When he grabbed her, she cried out again, in fear and pain.  Not only was his grip like iron, but his hands were like fire to her cold flesh.  She stumbled, as he released her but she did not fall.  She came to stand right in front of the large bed she was about to share with him.  She turned to face him, no longer as proud as she had been barely moments ago.<br/><br/>"As His Majesty wishes."  she said, barely above a whisper.  Her shaking hands slowly began to undo the strings of her dress.  It took her a while to free the piece of clothing with her unstable hands.   Eventually, it fell to the floor, a pool of dark velvet at her feet.  She unbuttoned the waist of her underskirts one by one allowing those to fall to the floor as well.  She was left in her undergarments; her corset and the short sleeved, full length satin slip she wore underneath it to protect her skin.   The corset was tied in the back.  She stepped out of the little mountain of clothing she was required to wear, and without a word, moved her hair so it was all resting on her right shoulder, turning her back to her husband exposing her little predicament.  She wasn't going to<em>ask</em>him to help, but she put her hands down signaling her inability to go any further.