“oh, princess.” a crooked grin tugged at his mouth. “ye’ll make a man blush.”
goin’ off by herself?
not at all. he reckons she ought t’ enjoy some time away from th’ safe, *safe walls o’ that big ol' palace.
/ breath* smh
ye truly wish t’ know, yer grace?
it ain’t meant fer a lady’s ears, but if yer sure . . .
it’s a question men ask when beddin’ someone, whether they spit out th' man’s seed . . . or swallows it.
fish bresth? thought a little crabbie like ye might enjoy it . . . don’t go hurtin’ my feelings now.
leave th' poor *lass alone, aye?
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⛧ 𝕻𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒆𝒂
𝓭uty & ˢᵃᶜ̶ʳ̶ⁱ̶ᶠ̶ⁱ̶ᶜ̶ᵉ̶
ambition . . . ambition runs this family - my father's, my brother's, and I would have to add to it my own if I don't want to live in a garden of weeds.
