There he was- bare, unguarded, everything she had imagined and more. Just a man, yes, but a beautiful, wounded one. His thin scar didn’t frighten her. It drew her in. His poker face greeted her, wary of her trickery.
“Am I dead?” she asked, drinking in the sight, unable to tear her eyes away.
Arsalan’s jaw tensed, but his anger melted when her hand brushed his again.
“I’ll pardon you this once,” he said. “But never again.” He rested his forehead against hers. Being like this, knowing she accepted him, made Arsalan feel… different. She treated him like a man worthy of love. But love does not come easy, and there will come a terrible price to pay.
****
Days later...
"It's going to be a busy day, so stay in." Arsalan pulled on his boots and grabbed his saber.
"I'll be at the harem hal
