Fear not! I would rather tear the heart from your bosom than take your bow, for I believe you would miss it less.
—Anne Fortier
Yes you may come.” Paris held up a hand to delay Myrina’s raptures. “But this time you will not be wearing my crown. You will be my slave, and believe me I shall enjoy ordering...
Why must a woman always surrender? I am not prey!””No I am. Your arrow struck me long ago.” Paris took her hand and placed it on his chest.”Right here. And every time I try to...
But are you not fond of me?” Paris looked up, his eyes full of reproach.”Fond of you? Myrina you are my queen. I want you more than I want life itself.
Paris shook his head.”Do you think I would teach just anyone to fight me to the death? I want you to be my wife. My one and only wife.
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