An amour.

Surreptitious affair. Concupiscent kisses veiled underneath the curtains. An infidelity.

Arashi, albeit the Emperor’s darling consort, grew besotted with you, a mere servant. Her gaze, bound to you, was permeated by adoration. An elegant arch of her finger was adequate to coax you in.

Dainty fingers grasping onto the lavish silk sheets beneath her, a mellifluous sigh would arouse from her throat accompanied by a dulcet, euphonious voice, “Shall you accompany me tonight as well?”