For your reading pleasure, Tempest presents yet another exquisite example of romantic narrative…

Between the Incendiary Night
by Mrs. Obadiah West, LL.D

   No; the still-proud Princess was not pleased. Not at all! Neither the smell of new-cut grass nor the gleaming, antiseptic operating theatre impressed her, and it was all because he wasn’t there. Intellectually, she realized that young Jacqueline, the tawdry, forbidden soldier-lover of her youthful imaginings, had a full life in which he was on a collision course with the High Council itself, and he could not be expected to hold any consideration for the pleasure of one unspeakably godless, barbarian girl. Intellectually, she knew this. And yet…
   Truly, it had been a most arcane day when persistent rumours had brought him to her attention.
   Only in this moment of extremity could it have happened that an abrupt fanfare from the long-silent trumpets shattered her composure into a million immortal, verdant, undeniable pieces! She felt her heart suddenly beat with a new, wild rhythm. Surely it could not be — but it was! At the door, the quixotic, unknown and masculine face she had come to know so well! “I worship you,” he rumbled while it dawned on her that her days of loneliness were over. “I need you, you foreboding, quotidian Lolita, you!”
   Abruptly, as the music in her heart rose to a new crescendo of happiness, she knew that life without him was unthinkable, if not romantic. Wthout him, could she ever have realized that it was now only a matter of time before they would be feeding off of each other's precious bodily secretions?

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