Pyros sat in the water, basking in the moon’s glow; caring nothing of the world. Her eyebrows furrowed as his name buried itself in the back of her head, Arthur. Arthur had been the perfect gentleman, a blooming red rose against the world of tulips she had abandoned in her wrath.
He approached with caution; as did all men who lusted for her beauty and power; yet, unlike the others, it was not beauty, alone, that he wished to be graced with. Where all other men fell to their lust, He had proven far more … interesting. He had come for one thing only; the others had approached with dreams of power and lust. Arthur only begged of her one simple thing.