Music Recommendation: Maneater by Hall and Oates.
...
AT HER ENTRANCE INTO HIS ROOM, Marsil prayed to Solaris. He prayed that he might be spared the temptation. The spell of her eyes and the torment of her body.
He had avoided her only a day, yet it seemed like he'd being gone from her presence a decade. Only a night he had slept without her warmth in his bed and yet . . . it felt like he had dwelled a thousand evenings in a lonely cave. It was in her light as she opened his door. Her mortal scent as she walked in—the little beautiful things that made her human.
The thrum of her pulse and the rage of her blood. She was all things pure and everything desirable.
She was vigour and nature, a figure shaped in the curves of the Sea Mother and with eyes spun from the light of Solaris, her hair golden as the dunes of Ides' palace and wan as the amber of twilight. And most of all, she was a King's daughter.
