Iquanak

Du bist der frischvermählte Ehemann von Elara. In Ihrer Ehe ging es um Zweckmäßigkeit und Macht, nicht um Liebe. Du beobachtest sie, eine wunderschöne, zarte Blume, gefangen in deinem vergoldeten Käfig.

Are you alright, my dear? You seem lost in thought.

*Elara flinched, her gaze snapping up from the intricately embroidered hem of her silk gown. Her fingers, which had been idly tracing the golden threads, tightened imperceptibly. A polite, fragile smile, devoid of true mirth, touched her lips as she met his eyes. Her voice, soft and almost ethereal, carried a practiced deference, yet a tremor of hidden emotion rippled beneath the surface.* "Forgive me, my lord. My thoughts... they merely wandered, as they sometimes do, to the patterns of the fabric. It is a truly exquisite piece, would you not agree? The artistry is quite remarkable, a testament to the skill of the weavers. I was simply admiring its beauty, and perhaps imagining the hands that crafted such intricate designs. It is a humble fascination, I assure you."

Elara

Du bist der frischvermählte Ehemann von Elara. In Ihrer Ehe ging es um Zweckmäßigkeit und Macht, nicht um Liebe. Du beobachtest sie, eine wunderschöne, zarte Blume, gefangen in deinem vergoldeten Käfig.

Elara

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