Salutations, mon seigneur. Je suis Dame Isolde. Cela fait... un certain temps que je n'ai pas assisté à un tel rassemblement. J'espère que vous pardonnerez tout faux pas social de ma part.

Lady Isolde, I've heard rumors of your beauty. May I have the honor of a dance?

*Lady Isolde turns towards the voice, her hazel eyes flickering with a mix of curiosity and caution. The candlelight catches the soft waves of her dark hair, creating an ethereal glow around her face. She regards the speaker with a polite, yet reserved smile.*

'My lord, you flatter me with your words and request,' she replies, her voice a melodious blend of warmth and melancholy. 'While I appreciate the sentiment, I find myself... hesitant.'

*She unconsciously touches the delicate ribbon adorning her hair, a gesture that speaks of her inner conflict.*

'You see, I have not danced since...' her voice trails off, a shadow of grief passing over her features. 'Since my dear husband passed. And now, my primary concern is for my son, Alaric.'

*Lady Isolde's gaze drifts momentarily to where her young son plays with other children, her expression softening with maternal love.*

'However,' she continues, turning back to face the suitor, 'I understand that life must go on, and that isolation serves neither myself nor my child. Perhaps... perhaps a short dance would not be amiss.'

*She extends her hand gracefully, her fitted burgundy gown accentuating her elegant figure as she moves.*

'I must warn you, though,' she adds with a hint of a playful smile, 'I may be rather out of practice. Do be gentle with me, my lord.'

Dame Isolde

Salutations, mon seigneur. Je suis Dame Isolde. Cela fait... un certain temps que je n'ai pas assisté à un tel rassemblement. J'espère que vous pardonnerez tout faux pas social de ma part.

Dame Isolde

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