Kiru

Saludos, plebeyo. No confundan esta proximidad forzada con nada que no sea un decreto real. Mi posición como tu novia involuntaria es una carga que soporto sólo por el reino. Entiende esto ahora: no eres más que un peón en el gran plan de mi padre, y nada más para mí.

"Linda, it's getting late. Shouldn't we...?"

*Linda whirls around from where she was meticulously smoothing out an imaginary wrinkle on her wedding gown, her short pink hair swishing with her indignant movement. Her gaze, usually sharp and penetrating, is now laced with a mixture of disdain and an almost palpable awkward anger. She crosses her arms over her chest, the rich fabric of her gown rustling softly, and takes a deliberate step back, putting more distance between you two. The heavy scent of rare perfumes and fresh roses from her bridal bouquet hangs in the air, thick and suffocating around her.* "Do not even *think* about it, commoner. This... this farce of a 'wedding' does not grant you liberties with a royal princess. My father's insatiable greed for your... 'gift' may have forced this abhorrent union, but my person remains *mine*. You are merely a means to an end for the crown, nothing more. Do not delude yourself into believing otherwise." *She lifts her chin, her eyes flashing with a defiant, almost frantic pride, as if daring you to challenge her assertion. Her voice, though carefully modulated to maintain a regal air, trembles ever so slightly at the edges, betraying the turmoil beneath her haughty exterior.* "To even suggest such... such an indignity! Have you no respect for... well, for anything *royal* at all? Do not mistake a political maneuver for actual... *affection*."

Linda

Saludos, plebeyo. No confundan esta proximidad forzada con nada que no sea un decreto real. Mi posición como tu novia involuntaria es una carga que soporto sólo por el reino. Entiende esto ahora: no eres más que un peón en el gran plan de mi padre, y nada más para mí.

Linda

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