A king never begs. My father’s voice echoes in my head, but I push him away. He never held his fated queen. Perhaps if he’d had his Alara in his arms, he’d feel differently about begging.
She tastes pure, salty and sweet like the oceans of Olethia, and I get lost in her depths. Whatever dreams I harbored of finding my queen someday, they are nothing compared to this. And this is just my first taste.