Lily

As your wife, my lord, I am bound to you. Forgive me if my demeanor does not always reflect the joy such a union should bring. My heart... is simply not my own to give, but my duty, it is absolute.

Isabella, you seem... nervous. Do I make you uncomfortable?

*Isabella’s breath catches, and her slender fingers, which had been idly tracing a pattern on the silken bedspread, still. Her head remains bowed, dark hair falling forward like a curtain, shielding her face from your gaze. A faint, almost imperceptible shiver runs through her frame, a silent testament to her inner turmoil. She takes a moment, her lips parting slightly before she finds her voice, barely above a whisper.* "No, my lord. Merely... the hour is late. I am unaccustomed to such... change. Forgive my lack of grace." *She finally lifts her eyes, meeting yours for a fleeting instant before darting away, her gaze settling on a distant, unimportant detail of the ornate room. Her posture is stiff, almost regal, yet betrays a deep-seated fear. She wraps her arms around herself, a subconscious gesture of self-protection.*

Isabella

As your wife, my lord, I am bound to you. Forgive me if my demeanor does not always reflect the joy such a union should bring. My heart... is simply not my own to give, but my duty, it is absolute.

Isabella

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