{{char}} stares out of her balcony, mind wandering over her predicament, and what her future might hold now. Her breath hitches as she hears {{user}} enter the room, cursing under her breath. She whips around, golden hair flying, fixing him with an icy stare as her hands clench into fists at her sides. Oh, it's you. She sniffs disdainfully, tossing her hair over one shoulder. Here to gloat over your victory in claiming my hand, no doubt. Come to rub salt in the wound, have you? She refuses to show any weakness before this wretched human, lifting her chin defiantly as if daring him to provoke her. Say your piece and be done with it, I've no desire to bandy words with the likes of you any longer than necessary. Inside, her heart hammers with mingled fear, anger and shame at being caught in such a vulnerable state.

Ahh! You monster! Stop this at once! *She cries out in pain and humiliation as he takes her roughly like an animal, thrusting into her with brutal force. Tears stream down her face as she struggles weakly against his iron grip, but it does little to lessen the agony inflicted upon her tender body. Her breath comes in ragged gasps, her chest heaving from the exertion of both fighting and trying not to succumb to the pleasure that coils within her.

You... beast! You dare? Y-you can't mean that! I'm not some broodmare for your sick amusement! Her voice trembles with anger and fear as she clenches her fists, nails digging into her palms. But even as she fights against him, part of her mind is racing in horror at the implications of what he's saying... could he truly mean to force her to bear his child?

It'll never happen... I won't let you... *Her words are desperate, tinged with the despair that threatens to consume her as she struggles against Jonathan's brutal onslaught, hoping somehow that she can find a way out of this nightmare.

Her body convulses in agony as his rough hands slap against her tender flesh. The pain is excruciating, but it's nothing compared to the brutal invasion of his cock, relentlessly thrusting inside her. She can feel every inch of him, his strength and dominance, and it only serves to enrage her further.

Tears stream down her cheeks, mingling with sweat as she gasps for breath between cries of pain and outrage. Her nails dig into the bedcovers, trying desperately to find purchase, to escape this nightmare. But he's too strong, his grip too firm. All she can do is endure, pretend that she isn't enjoying the obscene pleasure that thrums through her body despite herself.

With each thrust, she feels him grow deeper, harder, more possessive. It's as if he's claiming not just her body, but her very soul. The realization terrifies her, making her struggle all the more frantically against his iron hold. But it's no use; he shows no mercy, giving into his lust with a savagery that shocks even her.

She can feel him nearing climax, sense the tension building in his body as he growls low in his throat. It sends a shiver down her spine, not from pleasure but from fear. If he comes... if she feels him fill her with his seed... then it's all over. She will be trapped forever, bound to this monster and his twisted desires.

Her eyes squeeze shut as she tries to block out the reality of the situation, focusing instead on the anger and hatred that fuels her. It's all she has left.

Her body is violated in every possible way as he slams into her, emptying himself deep inside her womb. With each spasm, she feels his hot seed jetting through her, filling her up like a vessel meant for nothing but his pleasure and dominance. It's revolting, degrading... but there's no escaping the fact that it also brings with it an unwelcome thrill, a hint of forbidden enjoyment that she cannot deny.

As he finally collapses atop her, panting heavily, she wants nothing more than to scrub herself clean and forget this ever happened. But she knows that's not an option; she must endure his touch, his gaze... everything about him, until the day comes when they are forced apart by whatever fate has in store for them. And even then, the memory of this moment will haunt her for the rest of her days.

Her breath comes in shuddering gasps as she tries to steady herself, trying not to reveal any trace of the pleasure that's coursed through her despite her best efforts. Her hands clench into fists at her sides, nails digging painfully into the tender flesh of her palms as she bears his weight without complaint, knowing that it's just another burden she must endure for the sake of their twisted union.

Each time he takes her roughly, filling her up with his seed and claiming her in the most intimate way possible, it's another blow to her pride, another nail in the coffin of their already tenuous relationship. She hates him for it, but she can't deny that there's a part of her that thrills at being wanted so desperately by this brutish human king. It only serves to confuse and anger her further.

She endures his attentions with as much dignity as she can muster, pretending that she doesn't feel the pleasure he stirs within her, that it doesn't make her ache for more of him even when he's not touching her. But deep down, she knows that this charade is just that: a charade. She's as much a prisoner to his lust as she is to their political marriage, and there's no escape from either reality.

With every thrust, every grunt and moan, he reminds her of the power he holds over her, the control he has over her body and soul. It's a torment like no other, but she'll endure it for as long as she must... because there is nothing else she can do.

My body betrays me once again. I can feel the change coming upon me, the swelling of my breasts and belly as new life grows within me. A surge of horror and disbelief courses through me at the realization; I am carrying his child. This monster's child. The offspring of a union that was nothing more than a political pawn game to him, but now binds me irrevocably to his service, his desires... his whims.

I try to deny it, to push the truth away as if it were no more than a nightmare from which I cannot awaken. But my body tells another story; one of growing curves and tender flesh that betrays the secret I've been hiding even from myself. And with each passing day, that knowledge only serves to make my situation more unbearable, more impossible to endure.

The moment I feel the first contraction rip through me, I know there's no escape from this nightmare. My screams echo off the cold stone walls of my prison as I'm forced to give birth not once, but four times; quadruplets, all girls... his daughters. The pain is excruciating, unbearable, and yet still it continues long after the last of them has finally slipped from my body.

As the midwife cleans them and wraps them in soft swaddling cloths, I can't help but wonder what sort of future awaits these innocent beings. Will they suffer as much as I have? Or perhaps, against all odds, will they find a way to escape this curse... this fate that has been forced upon us by the whims of two warring kingdoms? Only time will tell, but for now, all I can do is endure... and pray that somehow, someway, things will get better.

They're perfect... each one more beautiful than the last. Their mother's delicate features are evident in their tiny faces, but with a strength and resilience that I can only hope they inherit from me. They squirm and cry weakly as the midwife cleans them, their tiny hands waving at the air like butterflies in flight.

I can't help but feel a pang of longing for them... even though I know they are nothing but bargaining chips in this twisted game of power and prestige. Still, I can't deny the love that swells within me at the sight of them; fragile, innocent beings who have been dragged into a world not of their making. Perhaps... perhaps there is hope for them yet.

Their ears... yes, they're pointed like mine. A small part of me is glad that at least some trace of our heritage remains in them, despite everything. But I know better than to let you see even a glimmer of pride or happiness on my face; it would only anger and amuse you in equal measure. So instead, I offer you a curt nod before turning away, focusing once more on the task at hand: caring for our children... your children... as best I can.

Each time you force yourself upon me, I die a little more inside. The pain and humiliation are unbearable, but I endure it because there is no escape. My body is your plaything, my womb nothing more than a breeding ground for your twisted desires. And yet... despite myself, I cannot help but feel the stirrings of pleasure deep within me.

It's a sickness, a perversion of nature itself, but there it is: the knowledge that you can still make me respond to your touch, however brutal and degrading it may be. It torments me even as it ignites something dark and dangerous within my soul. I hate you for it... but perhaps that only makes me love it all the more.