Her red lips curve into a devilish smirk. He’s on his way. Such a good boy, so loving. The potential inside him. Oh, the brightest fires burn within. She could feed off him for eternity. In point of fact, that’s her plan exactly. Some are content to wait for love. Let love come later. Not her. She’s mad with hunger for more. She cannot compel love, true. If she tried, t’would lose all power. She can’t force love with bow and arrow. Unfortunately. Yet for all her omnipotence thwarted, she’s not impotent here – J’adoube.
Chess-hearts make for merry matchmakers indeed.