It was up to him to set the battleline. They would be on the defensive, until then, no matter what.And... Janet knew, though she would not admit it to...herself, that she still had horrible mixed emotions about her night with Martin. As she pulled a cup and saucer from the cupboard she could not remove the image of Martin's demands on her body that had given her so much pleasure not many nights before."I'm not drinking alone," he said, interrupting her thoughts.Without protesting she drew another. &hellip,&hellip,&hellip,&hellip,&hellip, The Priest was sitting in one of the aisles of the church when he heard the large doors open and Clara step in. She walked slowly she was nervous. So she should be he thought to himself. The priest was a large man, 63 and solid with a deep voice. Despite being just mid 30s he considered himself to be quite an old fashioned priest, he didnt believe in the progression of the church and would stop at nothing to keep a member of his flock under control.. In one thing were they alike. Both were beautiful. Infact, one might have looked in the official dictionaryof the kingdom (now queendom?) for the phrase “BrickShithouse” and their pictures would have been there asan illustration. But the Queen was dark of skin, withraven black hair that fell to her buttocks. She neverever cut her hair, because it had been imbued withmagical powers when she was a little girl herself. Well, she never cut her head hair. There was other hair on her body. Sorry, we don't have anything else to use and my t-shirt alone won't be enough. I'll be using it as the bandage, but we need a pad on the wound. Do you mind taking your shirt off so I can use it as a pad?"Realising the seriousness of the situation, she didn't hesitate to pull her t-shirt off, leaving her small breasts well covered by her sports bra as she told him "guess you can see less than if I had my bikini top on."Smiling at her at her, trying to keep her spirits up, he tried to make a.