One hundred and twenty three

Inside the opulent chamber, a tapestry of emotions painted the air. As the king, Malik, concluded his fervent union with Aurora, he carefully untangled himself from her embrace and made his way to the adjoining bathroom.

Aurora, her cheeks flushed and her heart still racing, found herself curled up on the bed, her legs throbbing with a delightful ache. She couldn't suppress the radiant blush that adorned her face, basking in the euphoria of their passionate encounter.

Moments later, Malik emerged from the bathroom, his regal demeanor unaffected, but Aurora could sense a hint of gentleness beneath his cold exterior. Although she wanted to get up from the bed, she knew the king disliked women sleeping on it.

However, before she could gather herself and prepare to leave the bed, the king surprised her with unexpected words. He must have realized how much pain her legs were causing her.

"Rest," he commanded, his tone containing an unusual note of concern. Aurora's eyes widened, desperate