AllFreeNovel
Share Us
1
Poet
Jesters were dangerous. But princesses were fatal. ’Twas a lesson she taught me long ago.
Such a cruel story. So easy to remember.
Does this tale ring familiar? Allow me to remind you.
Once, I had watched her from the shadows. After, I’d targeted her for mockery, ridicule, and scorn. Ah, how I’d relished her furious glares.
And later, her chaste moans.
I’d wanted to make her scowl, craving the delectable heat of her anger. I’d fetishized every blush, tremble, and gasp.
We had been enemies back then. I was the seductive, silver-tongued jester prowling after a willful, tenacious princess to the point of obsession. There was a time when I preyed on her vulnerabilities, for they had amused me greatly. From behind a mask, I coveted each forbidden part of her. I sought to trick that heiress, yet how quickly she had ruined me, and how hotly we burned because of it.
What happened next, you wonder? Can you not guess?
My mask slipped, as did her crown.
Oh, and then. We became something unexpected, a force of nature that consumed two kingdoms like a brushfire.
Whenever her mouth yielded beneath mine, her taste lingered for days. Whenever she opened her naked thighs for my hips, her broken cries ignited my pulse. Whenever her lovely cunt quivered around my cock, her pleasure ignited my very being.
Every moment torched the flesh, simmered the blood, and melted the body. Indeed, the blaze grew hotter until we breathed the same sweltering air. We became a tale for campfires, yet not the sort that warmed hearts. Rather, ours was a story that kindled the soul.
She reigned whilst I seduced. She sat on a throne whilst I dominated the shadows.
That was all. That was everything.
Then she was gone, taken from me as if we might be so pitifully snuffed out. Yet it hadn’t extinguished that flame. Nay, our enemies had only stoked it higher. Separate the jester from his princess, and he would turn this cursed world to cinders.
This tale wasn’t over. The only difference between then and now was I had no pity left. Death and decadence awaited.
I would find her, fuck her, and fight for her. This had started with a ribbon. Wicked hell, it would end with fire.
I had many rules, and the most vital one was this. When a jester worshiped his princess, he was ready to die for her. But when a jester lost his princess, he was eager to kill for her.
2
Poet
Standing at the princess’s bedside, I inhaled the addictive scent of green apples wafting from the pillows. The aroma poured into my nostrils like an opiate, its effect potent and immediate. I sank to my knees, my joints shaking either from exhaustion, deprivation, or indignation. Really, I couldn’t say.
Or mayhap it was something else. Something more. Something worse. An intrinsic force, deep-seated in my being.
Fuck. I could practically taste the scent on my tongue, tasteheron my tongue.
Taking a deep whiff, I pulled the essence into my lungs, the muscles of my chest inflating. Drugged, I held my breath, held her in.
You have to let me go.
Nay. Not possible, sweeting.
Then again, I hardly relished asphyxiating and turning purple. Neither would do well for my complexion. Releasing the fragrance, I blew out a gale of air, my body caving with the effort.
Three days. Three days since her broken voice gusted into my ear, telling me to give her up. Dozens of hours since the princess turned from my arms and fled. Thousands of minutes since I sliced my way toward her in a raging panic, desperate to reach my thorn before she disappeared.
