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Ma — Chapter 16 The servants’ passage smelled of damp stone and old wax, the only light a sliver of moonlight leaking through a high arrow-slit window. Ma huddled deeper into the alcove behind the ancient tapestry of Queen Isolde kneeling among blood-red roses, knees drawn to her chest, arms wrapped tight around them. Her torn nightshift clung sticky to her thighs, the king’s seed still leaking in slow, humiliating trails down her skin. Every breath hurt. Every footstep in the distance made her flinch. “Princess Ma!” The calls echoed again, closer now. “By order of His Majesty—show yourself!” She bit her lip hard enough to taste blood and pressed her forehead to her knees. Just a little longer. Please. Then the tapestry shifted. A strong hand slipped through the heavy fabric and closed gently—too gently—around her wrist. Ma’s head snapped up. Quentin. His face was half-shadowed, jaw set, eyes dark with fury and fear all at once. He wore the same black guard uniform as the others,

Character created by @quinten

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