High Tensions
"You have such a haughty spirit, my love," a voice sweetly said, but the tension in it was evident.
"I rule you, dear. You abide by my laws," a deep, masculine voice replied.
He tightly held her chin as he stared deeply into her bright orange eyes. The icy glare she offered him was no less of an angry indication as they kept the stare down to see who would submit first. But she was far from weak, there was a reason she had been the one to marry him. As neither side yielded, he released her and backed up, watching as she kept her head up and shoulders steady, completely unintimidated by his toxic show of dominance. He would be lying if he said he didn't admire the woman in front of him. Bold, fearless, resistant to his terrorising ways, appalled by his womanizing phase.
"Get dinner done in fifteen minutes," he arrogantly demanded.
"Thirty." Her cold voice shot back.
He narrowed his eyes as she dared yet again to go against him.
"You take advantage of my father's protection for you. Do not forget who is in charge here," he threatened, his baritone dropping by a few decibels.
She remained silent for a solid moment, and he wondered if he'd finally gotten her to submit. Instead, she spun around, her long silver dreads whip-lashing her husband as she elegantly strode away.
"You will have your dinner in thirty minutes," the finality in her tone establishing her assertiveness.
Sana entered the kitchen and began setting everything up. As she was cutting some vegetables, she couldn't stop the line of tears strolling down her face. She wiped them with her sleeve only to have more slowly make their way down. And before she knew it, she was silently bawling her eyes out. This pain was unfair to her, unbearable. Always having to deal with a controlling husband who turned abusive and unfaithful. She clutched her mouth with a hand to quiet her tears as sobs wrecked her body once more. The heartache was real, and if it weren't for the exchange, she would've left him long ago.
But she couldn't deny that she still loved him, she had loved him for years. And he was not always that way. When they had met, he flirted with her, and didn't stop trying to court her until she gave in. He was everything she wanted in a partner; kind, caring, understanding, a gentleman, humble, and most of all, he didn't try to run her life. And when they had been together the first few years, she decided to give herself entirely to him and become his wife for as long as they lived. Their marriage was successful and full of love despite the lows. But somewhere along the lines, all of that changed. He started looking at other people, treating her differently, harshly. And he soon became an unrecognizable person in her eyes. He allowed power to get to his head, lashing out at her and regarding her as a slave or someone no less important while he indulged his desires in others and gave them all they could ever want, making sex partners of anything walking on two legs. Be they Azirin, or any other. Perhaps she should've seen this coming. His own father saw no need to be faithful to one woman, so why would he? It seemed to be inevitable he'd get bored of her and find love in the arms of another.
He was his father's son after all, settling down was perhaps just not in his nature. She sighed, drying her face and went back to making dinner. She had given herself up to him completely, and the only way out…was death.
Atlas walked through the chambers of his palace, his sceptre in hand as King of Aziri. He enjoyed carrying it around sometimes, the feeling of energy jolting through his veins was satisfying. He was greeted by his many employees, some of which he had slept with. And on that note, he wondered when he last made love to his wife, not sex, but love. However, he shrugged it off without care and went on his way exiting to the garden, smelling the fresh Spring flowers that reminded him constantly of Sana. He turned to the kitchen window a good distance away and found a busybody moving everywhere, checking pots, cutting, looking absolutely ravishing. His sharp sapphire eyes examined her every move, from the way her delicate hands stirred, to her bringing the wooden spoon to lush lips he found himself yearning to kiss. He travelled his stare down her body to her small bosom, down her beautifully-shaped waist to her rather round curves. She wore a silk robe with a slit on the side, giving him access to her smooth, long, cocoa legs he fantasized wrapping around him. He had been with women more packed than her in all the right areas, but he noticed how no matter who he was with his attention would always be drawn back to her, his Queen.
So, one could wonder why he continued doing what he did, being unfaithful and breaking her. Well, the answer was easy. He got bored being with her alone regardless of her adventurous spirit. Because the more power he had, the more excitement he felt he needed. But she wanted to settle down, give him children they'd raise together, and if he was still his old self, he most probably would've given her all that. But as it stood, he had as much resentment as love towards her for holding him down, perhaps even more. He couldn't part with her for as long as she remained innocent, or he would lose his reputation as a good king and much more. So, all that building frustration was taken out on her, he blamed her for stripping away his freedom and restricting him to herself. He wouldn't hurt her physically, so he broke her emotionally, punished her for marrying him. But it didn't matter to him that moment, she was bound to him forever in any case. He told himself he would change eventually and be loving again, but until then he just wanted to have a bit more fun first.
As a king, one must always be prepared to look after himself and his people, but he was in no way prepared for what came next.