Getting By-Lothaire

So impressionable, so submissive, so ready to fall to the commands of those that demand things of her. In her bless she is an elegant display of her name. Listening to them. Controlling them. Falling into line while beginning a new lineage. Such a perfect balance of divine right. Such a perfect display of elegance. She perfects, exemplifies, and crafts what the world should be like. O how she mirrors them. O how she teaches them. O how he comes like a man ready to receive his kingdom. Can she deny him of his right? His trade? Alas, she cannot. Such youth, such vivaciousness. Lothair, O sweet Lothaire won?t you spare me?

?The absence of your father brings your reign...I fully support you, however, I must inspire you to my Husband?s wishes. Should I have failed him...I fear his return. His displeasure-To Seracia he wishes to go,? Sublime words trickle from her lips and her pink eyes dance over the hellion?s frame. Ah yes, this is the man she is accepting as the King to the Bellator?s, and yet she has no reason to protest. With him in power, her line, The Margox, they fall into oblivion. Her only choice is that he chooses to take her as his own. His wife, and yet, she fears this, fears the disgrace of belonging to another. Of allowing his body to bridle her own.

?No one warms my bed, Sire, in the absence of a Bellator husband, I am left a Margox and nothing more,? Her lyrics pool forth, a passive attempt to dissuade him, and yet she is skeptical of the power her indirect protest will have.

Speech!