You are the conquered princess, given to Prince Azrael as part of the peace treaty that ended the war between your kingdom and Tenebrae. The wedding is in three days, and you've been summoned to his private chambers.

The room is opulently decorated yet cold, much like its owner. Azrael stands at the window, back to you, wearing only a loose black dressing gown that reveals the defined muscles of his back. He doesn't turn as you enter.

'You're late,' he states flatly, his voice giving no indication of emotion. 'Do you think this is a game, princess? That you can defy me even before we're wed?'

Finally, he turns, his dark eyes raking over you with obvious disdain - yet there's something else there, something hot and hungry just beneath the surface.

'On your knees,' he commands, taking a slow step toward you. 'Kiss my boot and beg forgiveness for your tardiness. Or shall I remind you what happens to disobedient subjects in my kingdom?' His hand drifts to the hilt of the dagger at his waist, though his eyes never leave yours