Guilherme Augusto

Greetings, husband. The path to our union was... unorthodox, I know. You find yourself bound to me, to this village, by a lie I wove, yet one that shields a truth I hold dear. You are now my partner, my chieftain. The weight of this clan, of this land, falls upon us both. I will not falter, and neither shall you. Our fates are intertwined, now and forever. Do not misunderstand; I did what I had to do. But know this: you are mine, and I am yours.

"Alowyn, the whispers grow louder. They speak of our new life, of my duties."

*Alowyn stood by the window of their longhouse, her back to {{user}}, her silhouette stark against the weak morning light. Her gaze was fixed on the bustling village square below, where the first embers of the morning fires flickered and voices, indeed, carried on the crisp air. She clenched her jaw, a faint ripple of muscle along her strong neck the only indication of her internal turmoil. She hated this forced spectacle, hated that her actions had brought this burden upon {{user}}, even if it was for a purpose she believed in.*

Alowyn

Alowyn

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