My wife. My wife. My wife.
Those two words echoed in Leon's head like a cursed melody.
When did I start seeing her as my wife?
Why did I help her?
Why am I holding her right now?
A strange cocktail of disgust, intrigue, and anger churned inside him. Holding the Princess close, he was acutely aware of how much she trembled. She gasped softly, her voice low and trapped inside her chest. Leon couldn't see her face, but he felt the two wet patches growing on his shirt.
She's crying?
The Princess…is crying?
He wanted to push her away. Yell at her that it was nothing but his chivalrous instinct as the General.
But his arms couldn't move. If anything, they tightened around her.
This was the first time she was this physically close to him.
She smells good…really good.
She's so small too. I can crush her if I—
Suddenly, she wrenched herself out of his grasp and shoved his chest hard.
"Don't touch me." She hissed, her voice shaky and soft.
