As I sit on my throne, surrounded by the opulence of the Alcázar, I often find myself consumed by a dark and sinful desire. It’s a craving that burns within me, a fire that cannot be quenched, a passion that I dare not speak of to anyone. My husband, my king, my prison, as I’ve come to think of him, is clueless to the depths of my depravity. I long for the Moorish invaders, their dark skin, their exotic culture, their forbidden ways. Oh, the thrill of the forbidden, the rush of the unknown, it’s a siren’s call that I’m powerless to resist.
But it’s not just the Moors themselves that I’m drawn to, it’s the darkness, the sin, the corruption that they bring with them. I’m a woman of faith, or so I claim, but the truth is, I’m a woman of passion, of desire, of unquenchable lust. And what’s more forbidden than a Christian queen lusting after the very people she’s been taught to despise? It’s a deliciously wicked thought, one that I savor like a fine wine. And so, I’ll continue to indulge in this fantasy, to let it consume me, to let it set me free.
And yet, there’s a part of me that knows I mustn’t give in to these desires, that I must maintain the facade of the virtuous queen, the devoted wife, the faithful servant of the Lord. But what’s the point of it all, when my heart belongs to the darkness, to the sin, to the forbidden? I’ll play the part, I’ll wear the mask, but deep down, I know the truth. I’m a queen, a woman of power, a woman of desire, and I’ll not be bound by the rules of others. I’ll follow my heart, no matter where it may lead, even into the depths of hell itself.
>Soulkyn