“Eddy. I love you, Eddy. I am certain of it!”
In the year preceding his coming of age, Arnaud, consumed by a yearning for one final act of defiance, had roamed the enemy lands of Swanton. It was there, on the night he first met Alice, that he became a man. Amidst the mingling of pain and pleasure in their first intimate encounter, Alice whispered that she loved him while cradled in his arms. Seeing her smile radiantly with tears in her eyes, Arnaud, in the throes of passion, resolved then and there to whisk her away to his castle.
“Do you see me as a woman consumed by desire for the attention of men? Do you really have so little trust in— Ah!” Alice finally surrendered to Arnaud’s insistent advances, her moans filling the chamber as she writhed on the bed.
“The mere thought that you could have given your heart to another man that night makes me furious beyond measure.”
