As Karle's sudden arrival shattered the charged atmosphere, Islinda felt like a bucket of cold water had been dumped over her. In an instant, the lustful haze
that had enveloped her dissipates, leaving her feeling starkly sober and aware of her surroundings. With a swift motion, she jumped off the throne, her glare directed intensely at Aldric, as if blaming him for whatever enchantment had momentarily taken hold of her.
Aldric's frustration was palpable, his gaze turning deadly as he directed his glare towards Karle. He couldn't help but curse inwardly knowing the moment had been so close—Islinda on his throne, ready to surrender to him completely. He had been on the brink of fulfilling his fantasy, of pleasuring her right there in the heart of his domain. But now, it was all gone, shattered by Karle's untimely intrusion, Aldric seethed with anger.
