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A handsome and virile African American sire, his throne, and a medieval castle.

A dowry, a beautiful seductress, and unrest among fighting clans 





Throne Room

“You’re Majesty.”

His High Steward bowed and stepped back.


“King Javiah, your brother from Wales, has sent a telegram for you.”

The High Steward leaned forward and handed King Javiah the sealed envelope. He bowed, turned, and then descended the steps. He walked out the Throne Room.

King Javiah flipped the telegram over.

The official seal of his brother’s monarch pressed into the red seal, warrant him the envelope, was authentic. He took a deep breath and flipped the envelope tab up. He slid out the folded piece of paper and unfolded it.

Brother, I have gotten word from France, his Royal Majesty and entourage will be traveling aboard.  King Raphael is proposing a peace treaty among your monarch. Brother, I think it could be trickery to plant a spy in the court. Be wary and vigilant.

“Too late,” he mumbled under his breath.

He looked over at the empty chair, which once occupied his wife’s presence. No peace treaty can bring back his queen who lost her life, at the hands of his rivaling clansmen.

There will be hell to pay for the person responsible for such he thought.

King Javiah balled the paper and envelope in his hand, and threw it down on the duke-blue colored carpet.

“Your Majesty, would you need me to saddle your horse?”


The Master of the Horse rushed out the Throne Room.

He will not rest the nightly attacks of his knights, until he revenges the salvage death of his beloved.

‘I think it could be trickery, to plant a spy in the court. Be wary and vigilant.’

Could his wife’s unexpected death be the reason why his bed remains empty? Moreover, his refusal to consort with a concubine. At this time, he trusted no one, or no ones’ opinions mattered, other than his departed wife.

King Javiah lifted a golden jewel-rimmed goblet. He handed it over to his Cupbearer to taste the sweeten elixir of wild berries.

The Cupbearer smelled the darken contents within, before taking a swallow.

The smooth drink slid down his throat.

“It is acceptable Your Majesty.”

He handed the goblet back to the king.

King Javiah took a sip of his drink, and handed the goblet back to his Cupbearer.

His Master of the Horse walked into the Throne Room. He bowed his head.

“Your Majesty, your horse is saddled.”

He bowed, turned, and walked out.



Privy Council Room

King Raphael sat around a table with his knights. 

“Has King Javiah, been given the opportunity to adhere to my warning?”

“According to Your Majesty's Constable. King Javiah is not willing to reunify his monarch into parliament.”

“I convinced him, the reunification would make a strong alliance, and I’ve went so far as to pledge my word. He will still rule his monarch separately as before, and my word given to him, my knights were not responsible for the queen’s unexpected death.”

“I do not think the king is thinking reasonable.”

“If he does not heed after my second message, then we declare war, and seize control of his monarch.”

“Your Majesty, we have employed Great Britain as an ally if called upon.”

“I have several men of arms that I know can, and will defeat King Javiah’s army.”

“Your Majesty, King Javiah has a better equipped strong hold on his artillery, and a fortress around his castle, in recent years of war, difficult to infiltrate.”

King Raphael smiled.

“All things can be broken, or penetrated.”

“Your Majesty, it has been brought to our attention you may utilize a secret weapon.”

“Yes, in the form of sweet lips, and long legs no man can refuse.”

Each man nodded his head.




National Museum of African American History and Culture

The Present

“Okay class, I need everyone to stay in a single line, and do not touch any of the displays. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Miss. Rainey.”

“I wish my class could be more compliance,” her co-worker stated.

“I loved coming here when I was younger; my father use to make this a weekend event for my mother and me.”

“How romantic your father was.”

“Don’t be envious, because my father, put it down on my mother, and spoiled his only daughter.”

“All right, Miss High and Mighty.”

Both women laughed.

“Do not tell me that’s why you became a history teacher.”

“Yes, and, to enrich, my students with the past, therefore, it will not be repeated, in the future.”

“You have been reading too many romance novels again.”


“I’ll meet you and your class in the Rotunda area, for lunch.”

“I’ll be there.”

Both women turned and went their separates ways.

“Miss. Rainey, what is his name?” one of her students pointed to a mannequin.

Sephora turned around.

A replica mannequin of a king sitting upon his throne stared back at her. His knights stood at his side.

Wow, she never knew the history books contained a handsome and robust African American king. Yummy, as her, and her friend would classify.

The king’s smoldering dark-brown eyes twinkled with mischief, and superiority.

I bet unlimited concubines serviced his every need and several mistresses visited his bed each night.

“What’s his name Miss. Rainey?”

“I’m sorry, yes that was asked.” She leaned over and read his uprooted engraved plague. “His name was King Javiah. He was the ruler of Scotland and England, although, with two separate parliaments.”

“Where is he at Miss. Rainey?”

Explaining to six graders a history lesson, outside the classroom, was tedious at times.”

“He lived in Scotland in the seventeenth century and his knights battled England to enforce a peace treaty, to reunify a broken alliance.”

“What’s a peace treaty?”

“Can someone tell me what a peace treaty is?”

“It’s when two people fight and make up, and... and they quit fighting.”

“Thank you Sidney, however, class. A peace treaty is an agreement between two countries or government to end an existing war.”

“I already stared at that piece of eye candy myself.”

Sephora turned around and faced her friend.

“This is the first time, I’ve seen this display.”

“I thought you were an avid visitor.”

“I am. Maxine, I was here a week ago and this display was not here.”

“I was here three days ago, and a handsome man was setting it up. I have to say the results are amazing. What a nice looking replica of a king. I could imagine how he would have looked in person.”

“Too darn handsome for his own good.”

Maxine scanned over the plague.

“It reads he commenced a battle, due to the betrayal by someone within his own court.”

“A woman,” both said in union.

“What a pity, I would have loved to have sat on that lap.”

“Yes, you and an entire kingdom of women, most likely did.”

“I wonder how he was under the covers.”

Both women looked back at the mannequin.

“With a body and face like that, fireworks, hot and smoking.”

Maxine looked down at the plague again and slowly read it.

“Wait, it says he was once married, but his queen fell to her death, and it states, he never took another wife. King Javiah. I would have loved to been one of your concubines.”

“I don’t know; he looks too stiff.”

“I’ll would have serviced his stiffy too,” replied Maxine.”

“You can be disgusting at times.”

“Why, because I have a great sex life.”

Sephora’s students were beginning to raise his or her voice.


Whispers continued to ring out.

“Class, we will not continue this tour until everyone is quiet.”

Her class whispering ceased.

“Let me finish with this tour, I’ll see you soon.”


Maxine moved her class forward.

Sephora looked back at the mannequin.

“God, the man was too handsome to be a king, and in charge of his loyal subjects,” she whispered to herself. “Okay class, are you ready for the hands on display.”


“Miss. Rainey, can you tie my shoe.”

One of her students held his shoe out for her to tie it.


Sephora stooped on one knee; she placed her briefcase near her pump, and then tied her student’s shoestring.

One of her students chased another student to the next display.

Sephora stood. “Hey, you know the rules, no running.” Several of her other students ran to the next display. “Everyone freeze.” She walked to the next roped display.

“If anyone as to dare move without being told, you will be sharing the bus with Mr. Pines.”

Her entire class stopped within their tracks.

Sephora looked over her students’ head

“All right then. Now we will behave ourselves, or everyone will be marching to the bus.”

“Yes, Miss. Rainey,” several voices replied in return.


“Okay class, I need everyone to put on their thinking caps. We are going to play a remembering game, and whoever gives me the correct answer, will win a prize.”

Her class sat up straight. Some students placed whatever they were eating or drinking down on the surface of a lengthened oblong table.  

“Is everyone ready?”

“Yes,” her students’ voices crowded her ears.

“First question coming up in one moment.”

Sephora turned around to get her briefcase. She lifted one of the extra brown bag lunches she prepared for the students who could not furnish one. She turned to face her seated students.

“Has anyone seen my briefcase?”

“You put it down Miss. Rainey, when you tied my shoe.”

She took a deep breath, damn that display was on the third floor.

I hope someone returned it to the Lost and Found she thought.

Sephora walked across the rotunda.

“Maxine, could you keep an eye on my students. I need to check security to see if someone turned in my briefcase to the Lost-and-Found.”


Sephora returned to her seated students.

“Class, I would be right back, and everyone is to listen to Miss. Goode.”

Sephora walked in the direction the elevators. She pressed the up button.

The elevator doors slid open.

Sephora stepped on and pressed the number three button.

The elevator doors slid close.

The elevator made is ascending journey, and then stopped.

The elevator doors slid open.

Sephora stepped off the elevator.

The doors closed.

“I hope it’s still where I left it.”

Sephora entered one of the display halls; she retraced her steps and glanced around the semi-lit display hall.  Without the questioning from a swarm of energetic six graders, the display hall was very quiet.

Sephora walked from one display to another. She stopped in front of King Javiah’s display. She looked down on the carpet. Just as she thought, her briefcase was not there. Sephora turned around and pivoted her head side-to-side. She heard something fidgeting in the artificial grass surrounding the display. She turned around; she stepped closer to the display and looked over the rope. She did not see anything. She looked at the display, and peered closer.

“What, and how?”

Her briefcase was wedged under one of the legs of the king’s throne.

“How in the world did my briefcase get under there? Darn it.”

Sephora looked around the display hall. She did not see a person in sight. Maybe she should go and get some assistance. She looked back at the display; her eyes drowned in the depth of dark-brown eyes penetrating her existence. Goosebumps surfaced on her skin, she shivered and rubbed her arms down.

She looked around the display hall once again, hoping someone would have appeared to assist her. She stepped out of her John Madden pumps, and raised her skirt above her knees. She lifted one leg over the velvet rope, the other followed. She wadded through a makeshift loch and walked up the moss grass surrounding the replica of a Throne Room.

Sephora looked at the display as she walked closer to the kings’ throne. She mounted three duke-colored steps.

Wow, the view from behind the rope did not capture the magnificent work of the customized rigid figure. She reached out and touched the side of a gaunt jaw bone, surprisingly it was smooth, yet course. She outlined the arch of thick charcoal- colored eyebrows. The king’s pencil thin goatee looked genuine. She touched the jeweled royal crown on top of his head. 

“I bet you were a heart breaker, in your time King Javiah,” she whispered.

Sephora touched his lavish lips, and inched back. She looked around and immediately wet her forefinger; she placed it up to his lips. She leaned down and ran her finger over his top lip.

“Too bad, you do not live in my day and time; I would surely have kept you in my bed from sunrise, until sunset, Your Majesty.”

Sephora nicked her finger on a fine strand of hair sticking up, it instantly bled.

“Shit.” She suckled it. She wiped the tinge of blood left on the lips of the mannequin off; she made the smear wider. “Darn it.” She looked around for something to wipe the smear off. “Now what?” Sephora looked at the reddish stain, which was beginning to dry. “Darn it, darn it.”

Sephora, without any thought, leaned down and licked the smear from off the side of the mannequin’s mouth, she then kissed the lips. She inched back.

“That was a good luck kiss to hold for your next lifetime My Lord, and why am I talking and kissing a damn mannequin.” She looked at the mounted security cameras. “You have got to be kidding me.”

The elevator doors slid open.

Two security guards rushed over to the display.

“Ma’am, step away from the mannequin.”

“I only came up here to look for my briefcase, and I have located it.  I know this may look awkward, but my briefcase is wedged under one of the legs of this throne.”

The two security guards looked at one another.

“Ma’am, someone just turned in your briefcase into Lost-and-Found.”

“No, my briefcase is right there.” Sephora looked down. She did not see her briefcase. She turned to face the security guards. “I tell you, it was just here.”

“Ma’am, could you please step away from the display.”

“Certainly.” Sephora stepped forward, her foot, slipped from under her, she fell backwards, landing on the king’s lap.

She tried to get up, and slipped again, she landed on the lap of the display once again.

“Gentlemen, I may need some assistance; the platform surrounding this display is very slippery.”

“Do not move ma’am.”

“As you see, I can’t.”

One of the security guards walked over to the rope.

Sephora relaxed and inched back. Her derrière encountered something vertical. She inched back a little more. She pivoted her head and looked down.

Maxine, will never believe this she thought.

Sephora turned back around. She placed her hand behind her back, and grouped the asymmetrical of the mannequin’s groin. For laughs, she rubbed her palm up and down the lengthen structure and squeezed the harden bulge, strangely, it pulsated in her hand.

Sephora immediately stood, and took a step forward. She lost her footing and fell backwards. Her head hit the knee of the mannequin, before she slumped down; everything went black


Cromwell Castle

King Javiah sat in the private company of the Cardinal.

“Your Majesty, your faith has kept you from taking another bride. Look around you, your court is filled of fair maidens.”

“I am still grieving, Your Holiness.”

“Certainly. However, you are a king, and this monarch needs the domestic delegation of a queen.”

“I will take your advice under consideration.”

Cardinal Webster bowed, turned around, and walked out the Throne Room.

Sephora slowly opened her eyes. She heard birds chirping in the distance. The smell of firewood was laden in the air.  The blue sky smiled down at her. She slowly sat up and glanced around. A stretch of green forestry surrounded her presence.

Where am I?”

She looked down. She still had on her double-breasted white linen skirt suit, minus her shoes.  She rolled over on her knees and got up. She took a step forward.


A pebble indented in the sole of her foot. She lifted her foot and rubbed the small rock away.

Sephora settled her foot and looked up. She shielded her eyes against the glaring sun.

The last she remembered was... the museum. How in the world did she end up here? She looked down at her watch. The two hands, rested on the twelve.

Sephora looked around. Her briefcase lay near a tree several feet away, lodged under a wooden branch.

“Yes, my cell phone.”

She ran over near the bark of the tree, knelt on her knees, and slid her briefcase from under the branch. She flipped the locks up on her briefcase, opened it, and quickly removed her cell phone. She flipped it open and looked down at the screen’s time and date.

“I fell for this joke, hook, line, and sinker.”

Sephora looked around.

“Okay, guys, the teacher have been fooled, you can all come out now.”

Sephora looked around and waited.

“Maxine. Come on guys this is not funny anymore.”

Sephora looked in both directions. She glanced back down at her cell phone screen. She pressed in the numeral button to 911, and placed her cell phone up to her ear.


The shrieking sound emitted from her cell phone, made her flip it close.  

Sephora looked around, and then looked up at the blue sky.  She sniffed the air once again; maybe someone can assist her in getting back to Dakota Elementary School.

Sephora tossed her cell phone back inside her briefcase and closed it. She snapped the locks, lifted it from off the ground, and then stood; she traveled in the direction where she saw smoke billowing in the air.

The ground shook beneath her feet.

Sephora moved the branches aside. She saw a Cavalry of knights, riding on horses, charging in the opposite direction. She ran out the bushes.

“Help…help me.”

They were too far away in their quest to retreat.

The band of men continued in the crusade of their direction.

What the hell is really going on here?

She was hot, hungry, and she did not know where she was. Sephora’s feet hit the main dirt road, she followed the narrowed path were the horses have galloped. She saw a small stream. She eagerly ran to it and dropped her briefcase on a soft patch of grass; she dipped her stocking feet into the depth.

“Oh this feels good.”

She unbuttoned her suit jacket, cupped the water between her two hands, and splashed it onto her chest. She looked around and removed her suit jacket and bra. She leaned forward and bathed her upper torso. She dipped her hands back into the water and drew it up to her mouth. The refreshing water droplets felt cool sliding down her throat.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

Sephora turned around.

Twelve knights mounted on horses obscured her detainment. She shielded her eyes against the harsh blaring of the sun to make out the concealed images. She immediately stood. She reached down for her suit jacket and covered herself.

One of the knights’ eyes never left hers. He dismounted his horse and placed his palm over the hilt of his Excalibur sword. He slowly approached Sephora. He drew his sword.

Oh no, I’m dead.

Sephora held her hands up over her head. Her suit jacket fall to the grass.

The men eyes enlarged at her partial nudity.

“I mean you no harm, or bring no ill fate.”

Sir Pious hand gestured for another knight to come closer.

Another knight dismounted his horse and walked over to where Sir Pious stood.

Both knights pointed down to the briefcase.

This drew the curiosity of the other knights.

Sir Pious squatted on both knees and tried to open the briefcase. Sephora leaned down.

Sir Pious placed the tip of his sword under Sephora’s chin, both slowly stood.

Sephora swallowed.

Sir Pious lowered his sword to his side; he returned it to its scabbard.

“I can open it.”

The knight leaned over and whispered something in the other knight’s ear.


The knight pushed Sephora in the direction of his horse. He removed a rope from off his horse tack, and tied her wrists together.

“I hardly think this is necessary.”

The other knight placed his sword back inside his scabbard; he lifted Sephora’s briefcase from off the grass and walked back to his horse.

“If I’m dreaming please wake me up, please,” Sephora mumbled under her breath.

The other knights mounted their horses.

The superior knight picked Sephora up, and placed her on his saddle pad. He mounted behind her, pulled his rein, and clucked his horse.

The other knights galloped closely behind.

Cromwell Castle

“King Javiah, I am willing to offer another peace treaty, in exchange for signing an amendment for a cease fire, effective today.”

“I would discontinue this war, when the man responsible for my wife’s death, take a walk on the scaffold, place his head in a noose, and publicly hung.” 

“Your Majesty, with all due respect, and that aspect taken, none of my men, had a hand in your queen’s death.”

“I say no to a peace treaty. Butler, can you show these men to the door, and make sure they are well passed the loch.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

King Raphael stood. He walked to the door. His royal knights, fell in line behind him.

Sephora’s body swayed, she could not keep her eyes open.

Sir Pious pulled Sephora closer to his body.

Very soft he thought.

Sephora pivoted; she laid her head against the man’s breastplate and closed her eyes.

Sir Pious looked down. He pulled Sephora closer. Her body was soft; her breasts reminded him of the sweet nectar of a lovely flower waiting for the right plucking. She smelled like no woman of the royal court.

Her body aroma was pleasant, flowery he thought.

Sir Pious eased one of his hands off the rein. He felt over one of Sephora’s thighs. He glanced down; he could not caress her skin as he planned.

The sheer covering guarding her skin felt unnatural. He wondered did she practice witchery, certainly a crime punishment by death.

Sir Pious’ stallion made the steep ascending journey up the castle’s crag.

Sephora snuggled closer to Sir Pious’ body. She was dreaming of strong arms holding her, the whisper of a breath fanning her face, a heart beating against her ear.

Sir Pious’ horse’s huffs trampled over the vertical formation of rocks.

Sephora’s body was jostled, her eyes darted open.

This was no dream; she was lost in time.

Do things of this nature really happen?

Sephora looked down. Fog swirled in the darken depth. She looked up at the man who held her to his body with one arm.

“How much longer, I have to use the ladies room.”

The knight holding her securely did not reply.

Sephora looked back up at the castle, which was now in full view.

“It’s magnificent.”

Not softer than your soft skin Sir Pious thought.

She turned to face the man again.

“Is that where you’re taking me.”

Sir Pious looked down at Sephora’s lips; he held her even closer against his chest.

Sephora looked up. In the far distance, she could see a castle sitting atop a peak.

The majestic tower of the castle appeared as thou it reached to the sky.

King Javiah returned to his bedchambers. He sat at his antique desk, and lifted a quill pen. He dipped it inside the black ink, and composed a reply letter to his brother. He placed the pen down, and folded the letter; he slid it inside an envelope. He lifted the red sealing wax stick and held it over the flame of a candle. He dripped the reddish wax onto the back of the envelope. He blew the wick out, placed it down on a wax seal holder, and then lifted his official emblem seal. He pressed it into the redden wax and set the seal aside.

King Javiah sat back in his chair

Sir Pious and his commanding knights entered the court of Cromwell castle.

The drawbridge was lowered.

Sir Pious led his men over the squeaking platform.

Sephora looked around.  

A hush fell upon the court.

Women stopped in the midst of their daily duties. Children ran over to their parent, and shielded themselves. Woman grabbed their children out of harm’s way as the horses made it to the entrance of the castle.

Sephora looked up. She could not see the top of the towering castle.

Sir Pious dismounted his horse. He lifted Sephora off his horse with the faint of ease.

Sephora’s legs buckled under her.

Sir Pious caught Sephora in his arms before she dropped.

She looked up into his eyes.

Sir Pious untied Sephora’s wrists, and threw the rope over the horse’s saddle pad.

“Come.” He turned to the king’s butler. “Please tell the king he is needed in the Throne Room.”

“Yes Sir Pious.”

The king’s butler bowed and rushed to the entrance door.

The other knights followed behind.

Sir Pious entered the castle. Everyone moved to one side.

The whispers followed Sephora’s ears until she rounded the corner.

One of the knights rushed to the door of the Throne Room, and opened it.

Sephora’s eyes glanced around an enormous room as she entered. She looked up at the cathedral dome.

The room was bathed in pure gold with crush velvet blue undertones. To one side there were several chairs facing the king’s throne, and to the opposite side, equally chairs shared the space. A carpet embroiled in gold, flowed down the aisle of the three steps leading up to the kings’ throne. She looked up. The king’s throne sat under an embedded official monarch coat of arms emblem.

The room was beautifully decorated, and fit for a king and his knights of the round table.

Someone pounded on the door to King Javiah’s bedchamber.

King Javiah’s steward opened the door.

His butler stepped inside and bowed his head.

“Your Majesty, your presence is requested in the Throne Room.”

All twelve knights lined lateral awaiting the king’s presence.

The knight whose horse she shared, stood in front of the other knights.

Sephora heard commotion in the Great Hall. She turned around to investigate.

The first man entered was a Cardinal, followed by a very tall African American man.

The first thing she noticed was a blue-jeweled crown atop his head. His royal deep-blue robe was ermine cloaked. His leggings were blue, which emphasized two sturdy thighs. The width of his muscled chest wall underlined great-unforeseen strength.

“King Javiah,” Sephora mumbled under her breath.

She touched her lips, it cannot be she thought, then that would mean, as her cell phone stated, she was back in the seventeenth century.

Sephora held her head down as the king passed her presence.

His knights bowed.

King Javiah walked up the three steps and took his place on his throne.

His senior knight walked up to the greeting steps of the throne, and bowed.

“Your Majesty, do I have permission to speak among you?”

King Javiah bowed his head.

Sir Pious removed his headgear. He glanced over at Sephora.

Wow, he was gorgeous, maybe not as the king, but every handsome just the same.

“This maiden was wandering aimlessly among the land. In her possession, were confiscated strange ornaments?” Sir Pious looked over at Sephora. “Your Majesty, strange ornaments not of this time.” Sir Pious stepped back.

King Javiah’s eyes fell on Sephora.

“You may step forward.”

Sephora stepped forward and curtsied.

“I think it could be trickery, to plant a spy in the court. Be wary and vigilant.”

King Javiah looked at the woman who was brought in his court for espionage.

She was very beautiful, her skin was reminiscent of the color of butter-rum, her lips, full, tempting to taste, and her seductive light-brown eyes drew her to him.

They were strangely familiar.

King Javiah rose from his throne and dismounted the first three steps. He descended the remaining eight carpeted steps.

Sephora bowed her head.

King Javiah walked up to Sephora.

“What is this fair maiden’s name?”

Sephora lifted her head at the smooth deep reverberating voice he owned; his thunderous voice echoed like a wave throughout the room, until the room was dominated with only his vocal sounds.

“My name is Sephora, Your Majesty.”

King Javiah walked around Sephora. He fingered her skin, lifted her coal-black disarray curly hair from off her shoulders; he leaned down and took a whiff of one of her hair strands.

The smell was pleasant to his nostrils.

“And how did you find your way into my court?”

A small smile played on his lips.

King Javiah stood back and gave Sephora’s appearance an overall glance.

“I was at the museum. I meant to say, I am from South Dakota.”

The Cardinal and the rest of King Javiah’s loyal subjects began to whisper among themselves.

“You speak of a land before time.”

“No, Your Majesty, I speak of a land not discovered in this time.”

“A witch,” the Cardinal spoke out.

Everyone within the Throne Room stepped back.

King Javiah raised his hand.

Silence prevailed.

King Javiah looked back at Sephora. He stroked her cheek to clarify his assumption of smooth skin.

“The practice of witchery is death.”

“I can assure you I am not a witch. I was at a museum.”

“You speak of spells, and…”

“Devices, and spell potions,” Sir Pious added.

The man, whose horse she shared, held up her cell phone, and a bottle of Victoria Secret, Love Spell Body Lotion.

King Javiah relieved the cell phone from out Sir Pious’ hand and attempted to open it. He flipped it open and slowly inspected it. He looked down at the screen and pressed several buttons; he placed it up to his ear. He removed her cell phone from his ear.

“Take this woman away; she is to be put before council for espionage, and practicing witchery.”

Two knights stepped forward and seized Sephora by her upper arms.

“Wait, Your Majesty.”

Sephora was talking to King Javiah’s retreating back.

King Javiah turned to face his congregation, and then sat on his throne.

The two knights ushered Sephora away. She pivoted her head.

“King Javiah, you are going to start a war.” She twisted her head and addressed everyone in attendance. “This kingdom will cease to exist, please listen, I can help.”

Loud denials overruled her voice.

“Witch,” several hollered at her.

Someone threw a stone at her back.

“Ouch, please…please listen to me, this…”

Sephora was led out the Throne Room.


Unrevised Edition

Copyright Kemy 2017










































Kemy Erotica Romance Novelist