*
About a year ago, during the first week of winter while the snow covered Avarel’s rooftops and the air grew chilly in the early hours of the morning, Diana and her mother had had a conversation about the duties and responsibilities of a wife. At the time, Diana didn’t think much of it. Why would she, when the possibility of her getting married seemed so remote and distant?
But now, as Caspian stood in front of her, clearly drunk and with his erection showing prominently in his pants, the conversation came back to her instantly, as stark and vivid as if she had listened to it only a few minutes ago:
Her mother had entered her room with a warm smile, carrying a tray with steaming tea. She placed it on the small table beside the bed and sat down, patting the spot next to her.
“You’ve be
