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The Beauty of a Beast

The Dragorian Empire was vast and powerful. It swept across the land like a plague, destroying everything and bringing it under the control of Emperor Zinj. Bloodthirsty and ruthless, he ruled the Empire with an iron fist. However, in order to consolidate his power and solidify his reign, he needed to establish a dynasty. He had countless wives and concubines, but none seemed capable of bearing him a child. He did have one son, however, the Crown Prince Daimon. It was under Daimon’s command that the armies of the Empire laid waste to countless kingdoms, crushing all resistance, and bringing them under his father’s control. His fearsome countenance, commanding presence, and bloodthirsty nature resulted in him being bestowed with the title, the Beast. Lady Rowena, the only child of King Roland and Queen Mathilde of the Solarillon Kingdom, has been chosen to be the bride of the Crown Prince Daimon. A terrified and reluctant bride, she is hastily shuffled off to the heart of the Dragorian Empire to be wed to the scourge of the world. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Excerpt: “Come here, Dear Husband.” She patted the bed beside her. His eyes widened in shock. His body seemed paralyzed even as it burned with lust. He swallowed hard and subconsciously licked his lips. Seeing his hesitation, she moved her shoulder just enough for her gown to slide a few inches off of it to reveal her pale creamy skin. Then she pulled at the ties to the neckline of her nightgown undoing the bow and loosening them enough to reveal a generous amount of the upper swells of her bountiful breasts. Seeing his interest, she then ran her slender fingers down her breasts, over her softly rounded stomach, and down her long legs. His eyes hungrily followed her every movement. Aware of his intense gaze devouring her, she pouted sexily and asked him “Or do you not find your bride attractive?” Rooted to the spot, his mouth opened and closed several times without making any sounds. He shook his head to clear the fog in his brain. At last he spoke, “Do you know what you’re doing?” His voice was thick and hoarse with lust and his throat was dry. She laughed, her voice thick and sweet as honey. “I’m a virgin, but I’ve been instructed in the arts of the bedchamber.” She rose to her knees, dropping all pretense of being a shy blushing bride, and looked deeply into his eyes. “Do not worry, Husband. I have been an excellent student in both theory and practice.” He swallowed hard as his heart raised, his hands became clammy, and his groin tightened painfully. “That’s…that’s not what I meant.” He stammered sweating profusely. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ How will she survive being thrown into the Beast’s lair? Can this beauty tame the Beast and rule as Empress?

BatOctopiSnakeSpdr · Fantasía
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151 Chs

Dragorian Culture

"We're having dinner with my father, the Emperor."

"…"

She started to chuckle but changed her mind upon seeing his despondent expression. She had assumed there was no real love between father and son, but she didn't realize there would be such reluctance to being in each other's presence. 'At least it's not openly hostile' she thought. Aristocratic families were rarely examples of loving and supportive relatives.

Rowena assumed now was as good a time as any to ask about Dragorian Culture and Religion. Daimon had already told her he never paid much attention to the religion of his father and was not required to do so.

First, she helped him a plate of dinner and waited. He picked at it, his mind reeling from the news that he and Rowena had to eat with the Emperor. Daimon rarely referred to him as his father, largely because he never acted 'fatherly' towards him. and the Emperor preferred to be addressed as 'the Emperor' by everyone.