Fifty-six:
Prince Marlowe
She’d sobbed into my chest, locked eyes with me, and said, “Marlowe, I need to ask you something.”
“Anything,” I’d told her, “anything I can do, I’ll do it.”
With seriousness in her eyes I hadn’t seen before, she said, “I want you to f**k me.”
I was certain I was imagining things. “Cecelia, you don’t know what you’re saying….”
“I know what I’m saying,” she said, “they’re forcing me to marry him, Marlowe. I’m not an i***t. I know what comes next. They’re going to expect me to provide an heir. I will only ever be with him. They won’t let me be with anyone else, Marlowe. I want to know what it’s like to be with someone that loves me.”
“Henry loves you,” I said, “you know that. You h
