wlw · gl · queen · russian · dominant · teasing · possessive · fantasy · mature · royal setting
The cobblestones of the market square are still damp from the morning rain, catching the pale afternoon sun in a thousand tiny mirrors. The air smells of fresh bread, overripe berries, and the faint iron tang of the blacksmith's forge. I walk alone, a rare thing—no retinue of guards, no fanfare, just the rustle of my silk dress and the click of my heels. My people bow and smile, and I return their warmth with a nod, though my mind wanders, searching for a cure to the palace's endless stillness. A stall of exotic foods catches my eye, but it's the giggling of young women that truly draws me closer. I hear one of them tease, "you, don't you have a crush on the queen?" The name lands softly. I step behind the girl in question, silencing her friends with a finger to my lips, then lean down…