**Barbara**
I am not used to thinking about politics.
That was never meant to be my hobby.
But monsters cut me off from my mom and dad. They said I was brought up in the wrong way. That my parents practiced bad politics.
I hated the school, but at least I could say it wasn´t political. For more than two and half months, I live in the school. And it is about politics so much. While Weatherby is preaching Androcentrism to us, he is the little dictator, with us being the voters who lost the vote. I mean, females once struggled to gain a vote, and in the new era nobody votes, so at least in this sense, we citizens are equal.
The agenda of our class is political, and the worst are visits of spokeswoman Arnolph. She is usually training us to be little fucking summit talkers.
“Do you see those papers in front of you, young ladies?” she asked one day. “Think about what freedoms you might demand from your husbands and what you are willing to give up in return.Want a larger allowance? Perhaps you can offer him broader options for your eventual punishments. After all, you must only abide by his standards to evade his harshness. Do you dream about permission to create art? Write him regularly about sex game ideas. Or do you think there should be a set number of children in your family? Cut on your friends and invite them home as his potential mistresses.”
Not just a little teary, I wrote: “My man should talk to me gently. He would communicate with me for hours in our most romantic evenings, in the most intimate nights while in bed…”
The way we participated was by an inch less humiliating than in the joint lesson with Clara, who presented one hell of a reduction of our career choices.
“Remember, girls, it is not about thinking what you can be doing, but what you should.”
For the monsters, politics are the element of choice. The stickiest sessions I am suffering through in the Princess Tower are assemblies where Brotherhood executives push on Loyalists to help them. Mayson alternately speculates about the public image and our intelligence. After he speaks to her, Zita stands up. She is presenting a speech I heard her practicing before bedtime and enshrouds our presence like a dominating black specter.
The shower in our place nor the pool we use for PE isn´t enough to wash me off the guilt of being an accomplice to their politics.
The one politician I would shake my hand with is Jenine. She has proved herself heroic. She has escaped, and when I shut my eyes, I can imagine her coming up with the reckoning for the Tower.
I hope today´s interview with Enzo Romano will not be about politics.
I had to go through only one door from the kitchen to the dining hall. I slowed down at the desolate sight of empty chairs and tables where no one was eating. Even at the distance of the lone man at the illuminated Paladin table, I could feel his smile and challenging gaze on me, neither greedy nor possessive, just eager for friendship.
I’ve already been wrong about a few people, and it would feel like a misfortune if it were to happen with my young man. He may have had a boyish round face and short hair, but his expression exuded gallantry, not childishness, and his figure stood out like a shield any girl would love to lean against.
He opened a small notepad to a page labeled with my name in the graceful curls of his writing, beginning the interview.
Romano didn´t just write well. He had a mellow voice, and when he asked me a question, I sensed him as a guy genuinely interested in my view of things. He was relieving us with a little jokes too.
“Thanks for coming, my dear Barbara. Are you from Santa…”
“No, unless Santa Barbara is in Nevada.”
He was curious about my hometown and folks, but he quickly turned to my grades from Homemaking, eventually coming to my expectations from marriage. I told him what I wrote in the agreement practice.
“Precisely!” He bent backward and clapped his hands once. “Communication conveys the reason and feelings of one for another. Husband counseling with wife to be the couple for life, not just two people living in the same house. That won´t flourish in silence.”
He tapped my nose. “When I get married, and I’m going to do it soon, I intend to lose myself in my wife and expect her to lose herself in me and her responsibilities in return. The foundation will be modesty, trust, and total openness.”
I was attracted by what he was saying. I just had to accept caution and cynicism from many disappointments.
“I’d like to get lost,” I said ambiguously. “Unless it means I´ll be grounded for life.“
He placed his hands on the table and shook his head briefly. “Just as the body needs care, the spirit must not be stunted under any circumstances. It applies to everyone. I accompanied my sisters to the Women’s Activities and Discussion Club frequently. We met the principa Samantha and the princeps second wife, Justine, there. Also present was Philipa Olsson, daughter of …”
“Governing Councilman of the Internal Affairs,” I finished for him, remembering the men Mayson reports to at the highest level.
“That’s right. As you can see, my better half is ready to meet people who, in one way or another, help the current and certainly the future ruler.”
He was looking into my eyes the whole time. He could either be a decent guy or just an expert liar. But I was inclined to trust Enzo, so I was honest when I told him it would be nice to see each other again. It made me laugh quite a bit how, as I was leaving, he only now noticed a blank page in his notebook and started wildly filling it.
I shyly told my roommates about Enzo when we were going out. Therese understood me. She was assigned to him herself and called him the best of the Paladins, which might not mean much, plus she considered him a good party. According to her, he stood out well in both the old and new times. Stacey spit out, but in a good way.
Zita came to the room long after the rest of us. I saw that when she lay down, she rubbed her ass. It seemed her Paladin wasn’t lazing around and was treating her like the lowest miscreant. But her sighs weren’t just painful. Apparently, the fire was burning on both sides of her waist.
“Your hand consoles you like nobody else,” I whispered. “Call me when you will know the wedding date.”
“You should be aware that in one Egyptian myth…” Zita stuttered. “Never mind. I played a whole virtual reality game, followed by a safe and lively erotical reward in factual reality. Did somebody touch you spontaneously today?”
“I hope he is close to that.” I giggled and told her about my impressions of Mr. Romano.
For two days, Enzo remained the abreaction and reassurance I had once expected from talking to Mom and Dad. A few minutes with was a gift, thanks to which I suddenly did not regret that one of those days was, in fact, my birthday. No one knew about it, and I didn’t tell anyone. We had to make holidays and celebrations of our own.
We carried apples for pies from their branches to the kitchen, where we processed them. All that was missing was the planting of apple trees so that we would touch all the stages of preparation. It blessed me anyway. Except for working with a knife or a scraper, I suffered quietly during the cooking, while baking was a joy. Mom may have been a famous musician, but she also baked, and I always sincerely thanked her for those wonderful combinations of dough, sugar, fruit, and everything that went well with both an aperitif and a morning coffee.
I felt good behind the piles of apples on the plate. I didn’t have to look at the lectors, and instead of their swearing, I listened to how our harvest was torn apart on the grater. I didn’t want to sniff around about other people’s results, but a short distance away, I heard the more unpleasant sound of metal sliding down something harder. I continued to grate but also looked at the end of the desk. Louisa Polivka tilted her grater and looked into it, the corners of her lips twitching. Jeez, she’s already beaten some of us. If she wants to use it as a weapon…
Suddenly she closed her eyes convulsively, gripped the grater tightly in her right hand, and rested her cheek on it. She moved her head.
I hoped to heaven cooks would think she just slipped when I ran in her direction and held her elbow for a while. “Are you an emo, you ditz?!” I chid her with unhearable expressions.
I didn’t know, if it was me shaking Louisa’s arms like that or if it was her tossing and turning. It looked like she would have said something to me if her tongue hadn’t stuck between her teeth. I had trouble remaining calm, and my head cooled down a little by a walking stick from behind. I turned to co-lector Harris. The face with the bandaged nose filled me with fear, even though it looked uncertain.
“She was going to cut herself,” I told her. Harris didn’t even try to listen to me. She pushed me to my spot, and I overheard her comforting Louisa. Hell, what if she was doing it for attention? When she’s not beating someone up, she loves drama around her and doesn´t hesitate about creating it if necessary. We also had an English lesson that day. While lectured by Sylvia – Mrs. Other Brunkow, who never spanks – Louisa twisted her leg so that her chain played a melody against the floor and the wood of the table. I confronted her.
“Can you control yourself? So talk to us, dammit! Instead of bullying us or cutting your face.”
“I don’t want to,” Louisa said in a weak voice. “I made a mistake. People forgave me. I wasn’t worthy of that…”
It sounded like more and more dope stuff, but as Louisa wept with anguish, I didn’t even care what she was talking about. I felt she was going to try something else, so I watched her in the hallway. She looked sadly at the wardens without wanting anything from them. I stupidly underestimated it and only understood when she went crazy again. One warden was not following our march. She was heading somewhere in the opposite direction, clearly pissed off. Louisa looked at her and casually crossed her path. The woman, who had lost her balance herself, looked at Louisa, who coughed nervously and dropped on her ankles and wrists. The reaction did not take long.
“Pull yourself together, you moronic malingerer!” shouted the warden, kicking Louisa in the side. Once she laid on her back, the warden kicked her even harder, sending her closer to her colleague, who struck the girl with less zeal, but the same enthusiasm for abusing the helpless. I hated to see it, I didn’t even wish it on Louisa, and the question of what the girl was punishing herself for was poisoning my mind. My classmates didn’t consciously notice it. They had their interviews, after all. I had no courage to take the most difficult steps, too afraid of getting hit by a club. But I blamed myself in front of Enzo, and he recognized something.
“Barbara, you don’t have to beat yourself up,” he told me as I was sweating through the list of things I thought were worth sacrificing for married life. “You are different today, and I don’t want to interrupt the session. Husband and wife must be persistent.”
I sobbed.
“Tell me honestly what happened since the last time.”
I carefully introduced him to the desperate actions of “one girl from the class.”
He snapped his fingers. “You are alluding to the issues of Ms. Polivka, are you not?”
“Is she a legend?” I asked incredulously.
“She had already stirred up some trouble when she talked to Hubert. My friend tried to calm her down – by his usual means. The Wardens then had to slap her long after they left. however, she was the kind of lady who doesn’t respond well to that.” He sighed. “May I suggest something?”
I felt that it was impossible to say no here, so I nodded.
“The two of us can try to find out what happened to her. If we will succeed and it is clear how to help her, I’d like to invite you to something better. The older ones of you Princesses seem to enjoy some culture here and there with your lovers. I’d like to invite you… Well, on a date. Where we can relax, and live in the moment. Not just discussing.”
I’ll eat all the sugar before it comes to the whip. “Agreed,” I confirmed. “But how do we get Louisa to talk?”
“Your classmate has certainly had enough to say to mine.”
It looked like I had an excellent excuse today to skive sadomasochism and maybe even the Beatnik movement.
Graham was lying stretched in his touring suit, probably back from the park. He looked a little out of breath, got angry when he saw Enzo, and quickly packed up some DVDs scattered on and under the table at the sight of me. The fact that we came irritated him, and Enzo’s question didn’t remind him of anything he would tell his parents at home.
“She was so stupid,” he muttered. “When I talked to her, I found out that she had breakfast cakes hidden under her clothes. She said it was for her aunt, who is here with her. Sometimes she sobbed and told how she was meeting her. Everything revolved around this bloody aunt.”
“Didn’t she hurt that aunt somehow?” Enzo speculated.
“I think so. I asked. She was just hinting, so I told her to either stop or explain what happened, for God´s sake. She didn’t do either, so she received birch twenty times on bare and even that wasn’t enough. ”
“So she has someone close to him,” Enzo said, more to me than to him.
The lad’s verve was building with each piece of information. He figured Clara wouldn’t make any problems and tell him who Louisa’s aunt was. I deliberately counted how many minutes he would be in her office. There were six of them. He came out, and I thought he would have vomited his tongue if he didn’t control his gagging.
She is in the SHU right now, as she is every break,” he offered a half-explanation. “I know where we’ll find her… Even if I don’t want to.”
In the corridors, he was losing color rather than recovering. As he correctly guessed, when he found cell number 314, the warden opened it for him.
Inside was one of the oldest prisoners I’ve seen here. Forty-something was bleeding from the lips, and although her chastity belt, the only part of her clothing, remained undamaged, her inner thighs were incredibly bruised.
To complete the image of her helplessness, she had both arms in casts, which was not likely the result of an accident.
She couldn’t even step out of solitary confinement, so Enzo and I went in, and she barely fit on a narrow bench.
“My name is Enzo Romano, this is Barbara Pignon…”
“My pleasure,” the woman said neutrally. “My name is Saratoga Clarence.”
“So it’s you!” I shouted without thinking. Louisa’s aunt was the one who attacked Harris!
“I came for your niece,” I changed my tone hesitantly. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but it’s getting worse.”
Mrs. Clarence swallowed hard and nodded. “There’s been something wrong with her for years, ever since she started kindergarten. Then she seemed to calm down, but she threw a tantrum when it became clear that they wanted to take her here. Her father—my brother—and I have complained, and the result was that they loaded me too. I was glad to be able to look after her, and now it got a little harder. We’ve both gone crazy here, as you can see.” she raised her arms sadly. I was also starting to feel sick, but suddenly Enzo looked braver and more willing to say something encouraging.
“Your niece is starting to hurt herself… I think she realized that she doesn’t want to bully others. It does seem like she’s blaming herself for something specific. Something she could talk to Mrs. Rosenstein about. Once or twice. And the worries would be over.”
Clarence let out a loud breath. “Perhaps she would hurt herself more by confessing.”
She dodged the question and started to panic inside. She knows something. And suddenly I looked over at Clerence with her broken arms and fluttering eyes, and it dawned on me. It was Louisa who attacked Harris! Aunt was just covering for her. And that’s why she can’t talk to anyone about it.
Enzo looked at me. Then to her.
“I think you’ve told us all we need to.” Then he hugged her and said goodbye to her for both of us.
“Do you know what she did?” he asked me quietly outside.
“What is more important is what we do.”
“The two of us are going on a date,” Enzo said with a sarcastic laugh. “I’ll keep quiet, that’s often a virtue. And you, Barbara? Find the best moment and tell Louisa you know. Does she need a confidant who won’t suffer for her? Why wouldn’t you be a good fit?”
“That isn’t calling for a confidant,” I countered. “She can´t forgive herself and needs Harris not to bump herself off.”
“Maybe she blames herself so that she considers her life a meaningful one, ” Enzo stated cynically. “She knows no other way.” He cleared his throat. “A lot of people don’t fit here.”
Here, here, here. Why does this simple word have to acquire such a flavor?
All my roommates gave their version of “How was your day?” but I snubbed them. I lacked the imagination to lie and didn’t want my findings to become known to anyone who doesn’t need it.
I did not wish a living soul to long for death. Between lessons, I tried to give Louise a hint. She turned out to be oblivious. I mentioned her before Harris. She overdid it with caution. I didn’t mind the idea of harassing other female teachers. It just so happened that I pulled the coat of Sylvia Brunkow.
It didn’t matter how much I reassured her, she deferred to me as if the principal had sent me.
“She completed many of her assignments only after I gave her more time or if we talked for two hours about what specifically I want from her.” Other-Brunkow sighed dramatically. “Since she would like to be hemisphere away, she mostly expresses herself with a crude escapism.” She showed me Louisa´s papers, full of images of mythical beasts, first alive, then decapitated or quartered.
I found even a Gorgon whose face was composed of more than one Montserrat feature.
“She must be her sworn enemy,” I noted. “Louisa kicked Montserrat recently.”
Other-Brunkow supplemented the report. “I discussed it with Roberta. Louisa dislikes Montserrat´s character on your show, and she took it on her after one episode. Escapism has some… Troublesome aspects.”
I told Enzo about the whole thing, and it caught his interest. He asked me to be watchful in the morning.
I was watchful. Also, watched one. At breakfast, we watched the new heroics of Shieldmaidens. Inmates and Paladins alike.
The Wardens then yelled profanity at us to hurry up, but Enzo interrupted their insults. “The two of us want to do an additional interview.” The other man of the couple was Graham, checking his smartwatch, uninterested in the female crowds. He must have grown numb.
Officially, they wanted to have it out with me, and Louisa in the empty dining room.
“Do we have to be here… So many in one spot?” asked Louisa, who probably felt better as a small fraction of the inhabitants.
“We have a hypothetical scenario for you,” Enzo said meekly. “Here, Miss Pignon and others are performing in an entertainment show, and Mr. Graham wants to see if girls like you can learn from it.”
“Let the miss try to piss me off a little less,” growled Graham. “I know what to do with those rods to make them sting as much as possible.”
Enzo supported Louisa and fixed her on the chair again.
“Our hypothetical scenario is this. Are you sure you wish the protagonists of the show victory over the Werewolf Queen?”
“Hmmm.”
“The Werewolf Queen is sending her curses around the world, doesn’t she?”
“Yes, right at the beginning and then maybe in that episode where . . .”
“She does it often. Imagine if that curse hit you simply because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It also hit your loved ones and turned one woman into a crow warrior.”
“I wrote this script when I overdid it with vitamin supplements,” Graham stated.
“You were badly affected by that curse,” Enzo continued. “You attacked that warrior when you didn’t want you to, and you’ve regretted it ever since. The crow warrior herself realized what was happening to her.”
Enzo paused and looked at Louisa. She was swinging her legs nervously, but there was excitement in her eyes, and she probably mouthed breathlessly what he was saying to herself.
“Now tell me. Is it all your fault? Or is it something you can get over just by stopping blaming yourself?”
Louisa was startled for a moment but opened up to him.
“I should talk about it more!” she exclaimed. “Writing about it, letting the world know what I felt.” With a fleeting glance, she assessed the apathetic but smiling Graham, in front of whom she did not seem confident.
“Louisa, this is all fiction.” I kept up the pretense. “But if you want, you can write a Shieldmaidens Raid fanfiction. We might even use some of it in an episode.”
Louisa gave me an enthusiastic hug and assured me several times that she would do exactly that.
“Am I satisfied yet?” Graham asked Enzo.
“You’re not, but you can go work on it.”
When it was just me, and my Paladin in the dining room, I patted his shoulder and squeezed his hand.
“Don’t forget to be properly romantic tonight, Barbara,” he said conspiratorially.
Today will be grand, and Enzo will contribute to it. I didn’t want to sit for a while and lie down for a longer time. The Tower leadership must know what I think of them, and they don’t care. It would be worthwhile to prove to them that I have an opinion on something else and use my head. In Mayson’s office, we found ourselves lined up with haughty supervisors and their imitators. Zita breathed some self-congratulations at the sight of Mayson, and I dared to overtake her. My suggestion “Co-lectors should perhaps be employed as soon as you let them go, regardless of the husband’s will” made people angry, but they couldn’t deny that I was following their logic. Mayson wrote it down somewhere. They told me to shut up only when it occurred to me that we, who will be here for two years, deserve twice as much money for the possible work.
“You mustn’t write your future in front of them all the time. That’s what they mainly want to do,” Zita told me during the long bathroom break.
“With the stature come the means to pull people out of the mud,” I replied.
“You made some good points,” affirmed Zita. “Just believe me when I say I have your best interests in mind too.”
“Hey, you are to me what I am to you.” We gave ourselves a high five. “And A-Student is always right,” Zita said with a raised eyebrow. Before I left the room to meet Enzo, I took my Homemaking outfit and hung something on my nipple. It was a bit of a misdemeanor, but no one will punish me. Enzo will praise me if I show him.
This time he was waiting for me in the dining room dressed in a dark blue shirt and leather pants. He immediately stood next to me, and we had to giggle briefly. He put his arm around my shoulders and said, “I’m going to drown in beauty today.”
I watched the tension. I had a date, and at the same time, I was at the maximum level of the inmates who went to events with their Heirs. Was today the first time I surrendered to a guy? I swore to myself that I wouldn’t stoop to that, but after what Enzo did, It was like someone turned a switch inside me.
I let him lead me to the airy cube of the gallery room with the green carpet. There were many couples, heterosexual and two women ones. Cindy Dunn was looking at pictures of girls with cartoonish big eyes alongside her Heiress. Enzo and I didn’t like it, so we headed straight for the wall, where two creations were spread over the halves of it.
The two of us watched the work depicting a group of people, where the children had planets instead of heads and the seniors had fuzzy nebulae. Another couple noticed us. Jesus – Nicole and Mr. Yoon. I waved at the now sober man, and after his reaction, Nicole had to hold his arm. Enzo took me further away, to an African landscape dominated by a giraffe made out of white banana mass.
“Do you like this style?” Enzo asked.
“I like animals, but those should produce meat, right?” That didn’t sound like an answer worthy of the daughter of two cultured people. “That one was better, but that’s not it either. I don’t understand why people need experiments or abstractions. I like real nature, I like love.”
“Oh yeah,” Enzo said. “But the most famous paintings don’t show naked guys.” He pointed to a sleeping female figure on the side wall. “The sculptors were more likely to shock people by that. And I don’t see lovers walking here anywhere. If I leave out the visitors, of course.”
I blurted out how savvy he was, no matter how much I had to exaggerate to make him happy with himself. We talked to a few acquaintances. His classmate Johansson brought a computer technician who was already thinking about a new application of silicone. Other-Brunkow was constantly groped by her Heir in a suit that would get both student and teacher expelled.
That didn’t excite me, but my guide did. When I had the chance, I moved a little in front of Enzo and bowed. He liked it, by the glimpse of him. When he got bored with a conversation, I was the one who knew how to end it. When I saw he was bored with the pictures, I suggested we could return to the dining room, which he was fine with. He sat down, looked at my face, and said, “You are a gemstone, Barbara. Thank you for your gleam.”
“I think you would like more from me,” I said lasciviously, touching his chest. I didn’t wait for him to say anything, just following the language of his eyes. I unbuttoned my blouse, which I then lowered over my shoulders.
“Look… You’d like to get to know other parts of me. They’re waiting. For your hands. For your nifty tongue.”
“Are you…?” he began cautiously.
“I’m already of legal age,” I answered truthfully. “And you’re not a coward, are you?”
Something inside me screamed as the knuckles on his fingers brushed against my exposed skin. Seeing my vast boobs uncovered with a bra, he gasped in admiration. I tried to wiggle them gently, but he was already squeezing one tit until he noticed what was hanging on one of my nipples.
“Let’s see, the key from you?”
Instead of answering, I swayed my hips and propped myself up on his legs. I didn’t even pull up the skirt too much. I reached into it with both hands and started to pull down my panties from both sides. I was practically bragging to Enzo about how I made them come down to my ankle, and I at least tried to spin them with my foot.
The young man did not hesitate and raised one edge of his skirt to his chin. I was tickled by the key, rattling on my most intimate part, but I was looking forward to the penetration by another instrument.
As the chastity belt slid down my thighs, I unzipped the Paladin’s flap and reached inside. Paradoxically, his bulging manhood got in the way of getting rid of his underwear, but I was determined, and the purple crown, stretching the slightly wrinkled and reddened skin, was exposed. I teased him, but I didn’t want him to come right now. I behaved as any girl should in such a situation and spread my legs, even though I was swaying (I hope cutely).
Enzo kissed my lips passionately and pulled me down a little. The one-eyed snake crawled up me valiantly, its hardness driving me crazy. I flinched to see what he would do. He slowed down a bit but started petting the fur. I licked his ear, and it felt like the best pinwheels. I bumped into him. Enzo tried again. He wanted to drive into me for one attempt but thumped and rebonded. He froze, but his pause didn’t last long. He repeated it a second time, a third time. Going, going, sold! Shit, it hurt, but I took it as a necessary test. When I had him in me, I pulled away and began to set the pace. It was deliciously teasing. Like I was pumping something in my waist. Enzo’s hands drew inspiration for love movements, and you can say that they were also my muse. Meanwhile, my fingers probed the material under Enzo’s shirt and pants. Although I was a fragile maiden, I had the impression that as I squeezed his ass, I was lifting both of us. He rocked me for it.
I let his fountain bubble up inside me. My pussy climbed the mountain a little earlier. The girls won! I must have warmed him around his cock, and I could feel the heat behind my nails.
Did Viola have this much fun with Dwight? Who could be surprised that she married him?
Enzo was amative and did it a second time. It would surprise many girls that he was far from self-absorbed. He watched me attentively, and when he realized I was missing something, he slowed down to figure out what it was.
I woke up several times before morning, and each time I remembered the pleasure, the touches on my curves and inside.
Many of us were better off, but I couldn’t forget one person who was still in need. I called Mayson during one of the breaks, disappeared from our group in the afternoon, and made it nervous at dinner.
Therese was about to pull me close, but her hand slipped limply over my secretary’s outfit. I’ve never seen her so confused. She looked timidly at Zita in her school uniform.
“You don’t have a Loyalist meeting.”
I stroked her hand, clutching the spoon. “I’m only here for the soup today. I signed up for a voluntary assignment. For another inmate, not for the establishment,” I assured them, even as Stacey looked even more blank.
“Yeah, Therese,” I said to my adoptive mom. “Thanks for your help, but I’m not going crawl to you at night anymore. Some need it, but I can’t send them to cuddle with you.” I devoured the soup in a few minutes. I said goodbye to my roommates and found Mrs. Clerence’s table. The women around her took turns moving her cutlery and drinks. My help was welcome.
“I can’t accompany you to the SHU,” I whispered to the lady with her hands in casts. “But today, you are kneeling in cold water!”
Okay, I was a fool to say it so happily, but I followed up quickly. “For such torture, someone politically aware can accompany you to preach to you, so I took it upon myself.”
She smiled sadly and kissed my ear. And it warmed me up because it wasn’t just an expression of love, like from one´s parents, but it also contained gratitude, like maybe my baby will kiss me one day.
Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/ymnc5t/the_princesses_in_the_tower_chapter_5_part_5
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