He glared at his new wife and sighed, sitting down next to Amelia Rose and kissing the toddlers cheeks, "Good morning my Ami. How is daddy's perfect princess."

His eldest son, Martial, pat her arm, "Don't take it personally step-mother." He then went back to eating his breakfast.

She tried to give her husband a smile and he sighed, "Just eat you food woman. You could stand to gain a few pounds."

He raised his eyebrows when she didn't protest further about being addressed as step-mother or wife and smiled just a little before turning back to his breakfast. He ignored his son Martial's comment, knowing the boy was only trying to make him jealous of someone else's attention.

Amelia giggled at her father's praise and held out her arms for him to pick her up. "Up daddy!" she squealed happily. He smiled down at his youngest daughter before carefully lifting her into his arms, rocking her gently as he continued eating.

Martial cleared his throat, looking pointedly away from the scene playing out between father and daughter, "I should go practice my swordplay." He stood, still not quite able to meet their eyes. "If that's alright with you, mother?" He addressed the Queen formally now, reminding himself to respect her.

"Wait," the king ordered, setting down his food with determination as he put Amelia Rose back on her blanket on the floor beside him. He looked at his eldest son, anger glinting in his pale blue eyes. "I don't recall telling you that I approved of your disrespectful attitude toward your mother."

Martial gulped but didn't reply, standing a little taller as he tried to meet his father's angry gaze. After a moment, the king sighed again and put one hand on Martial's shoulder, his other hand rubbing circles into Amelia Rose's back. "Go ahead," he told him quietly. "But behave yourself."

"All right," he nodded, glancing briefly at her before turning his full attention back to Martial. "Just... remember that she is your mother. Show her some respect." Then he turned to the Queen and gave her a half-smile. "Come with me." He offered his hand to help her up, which made Rosa feel like it was more of an order than an invitation.

She took his hand and rose slowly, wondering what he had in mind. They stepped out into the hallway together, the door closing behind them with a faint click. "What is it you wish to discuss?" she asked cautiously.

The king stared at his new wife in surprise. "Rosa," he began carefully, waving off her advance with one hand. He couldn't help but notice that she wasn't as dressed up today as usual, which made her seem... more approachable somehow. Still, the words had startled him and he struggled to find an appropriate response.

Finally, he managed to compose himself and said flatly, "I married you for political reasons, not because I wished to bed you." He glanced away, feeling a wave of shame wash over him as soon as the words left his mouth. "I apologize if my feelings have been unclear on that matter," he muttered under his breath.

"That," he began coldly, "is quite impossible." He crossed his arms over his chest, gaze fixed on the floor as he contemplated what this development meant for their marriage. Part of him was tempted to make Rosa happy just to keep her from seeking out someone else; another part of him felt disgusted at the idea of touching her when he didn't love her in return.

After a moment, he said gruffly, "You should focus on being a good wife and taking care of Amelia." His eyes flicked to where their daughter was playing with her toys down the hallway before returning to his new bride. "If that's not enough for you... then perhaps we could arrange something else for you." He raised an eyebrow, half-expecting her to protest further, but she remained silent.

The touch of her fingers against his palm sent a wave of heat through him despite himself. He closed his eyes briefly as he felt the moisture between them, reluctantly admitting that she was indeed very aroused. When she pressed his hand harder against herself, however, it was almost too much. His control snapped, and before he could stop himself, his free arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her off her feet into the air as he roughly took what she'd offered.

Her cries echoed through the hallway as he claimed her with savage need, their bodies moving in a frenzy that left them both breathless long before he finally let out an animalistic groan and collapsed against her. The weight of him pressed her into the wall, his strength seemingly draining away along with his passion.

He stood there, still holding her close but now limp, not moving a muscle as he caught

Finally finding his voice again, he growled out, "Never question me again." Then with one more harsh shove, he deposited her back on the floor before turning sharply and stalking off down the hallway without a word. He knew she was still there, watching him, but he refused to acknowledge it. His mind was already racing with thoughts of how to keep Rosa in line without revealing his own weaknesses to anyone else.

"Get up," he growled at her when they reached his chambers, pushing her roughly toward the bed. He didn't wait for her to comply before stripping off his clothes and climbing onto the sheets beside her, positioned between her spread legs. With one powerful thrust, he buried himself inside of her, claiming her with a groan that mingled with her cries of pleasure.

His movements were rough and unyielding, as if this act were some sort of dominance display meant to prove his superiority over both her body and their situation. She felt his grip on her hips tighten almost painfully as he drove into her again and again, taking what he wanted with little regard for her comfort or pleasure. But somehow it didn't matter; the primal need that burned between them seemed to transcend any hint of tenderness or care.

The room echoed with their combined

His movements became more savage, each thrust seemingly deeper and harder than the last as he lost himself in the animalistic release that she seemed to crave so much. He groaned harshly into her ear, fingers digging painfully into her hips as his body arched above hers, spilling his seed deep inside of her.

As his orgasm finally faded, so too did his grip on her hips and the rest of their connection seemed to evaporate like mist in the sunlight. He collapsed beside her, breathing heavily for several long moments before speaking at last. "That," he managed hoarsely, "will be enough of that." His tone was clipped and cold, like the first frost of winter on a chilly fall day. "Do not ever make me touch you again unless it is absolutely necessary."

The king lay there, his body still reacting to the release of tension as it tried to reassert its dominance over him. He felt angry with himself and disgusted by what he had just done; but more than anything else, he was confused. This newfound knowledge about his desires threatened everything he had worked for and believed in.

It would have been easier if he could simply ignore it and go back to treating Rosa as little more than a political pawn. But now... now she seemed almost irresistible to him, her pleas for rough treatment fuelling some dark part of his soul that he didn't recognize. He forced himself not to think about it any further, turning his attention away from the bed and toward the fireplace instead, hoping that the flames would provide some distraction from his turbulent thoughts.