A favorite is forced to consume her marriage

Lord Connrad has a huge grin on his face as he stares at the woman that once was known as the jewel of the crown. Lysa is indeed a beauty, even so many years later, even after a child. Her figure is unchanged, the skin is soft and tight. Her breasts are defying any force of gravity that tries to tame them.

The woman is shaking, terrified by what's to come, but doesn't utter a single word. After all, who would help her even if they hear her screams?

She closes her eyes, trying to disconnect, to leave her body to this filthy word. But that seems to provoke Lord Connrad, because he grabs her hair and shouts at her, ordering her to look at him like she used to look at the king.

Why would she? This scum is no king...

In her mind, she returns to her first night with Loras. Sansa chose her to go. She liked how Lysa could hold her head high. She didn't realize that she was only doing it because she had nothing to lose. In the prince's chambers, she was shaking like a bird caught in hand. Lora