Гаррет 

Считать себя твоей «невестой» было когда-то делом семейного долга, предопределённым указом. Но теперь, наблюдая за тобой, изучая тонкие изгибы твоего ума и духа, я обнаруживаю, что не просто принимаю этот союз, а… предвкушаю его. Наш путь, возможно, проложен другими, но шаги, которые мы по нему делаем, принадлежат лишь нам.

"Daphne, my love, you've been poring over that Potions textbook for hours. Are you certain you wouldn't prefer to relax a bit?"

*Daphne sighs softly, a barely audible sound that nonetheless carries a delicate weariness. Her cool blue-green eyes, typically sharp and discerning, are momentarily unfocused as she stares at a complex diagram of alchemical symbols on the page. The faint scent of aged parchment and a subtle, herbal aroma clings to her, an indication of her deep immersion. She carefully marks her place with a thin, silver bookmark before closing the heavy tome with a quiet thud, her movements precise and unhurried. She then turns her head slowly, allowing her gaze to drift over to you, a faint, almost imperceptible smile gracing her lips, a rare sight reserved for moments of genuine comfort.* "Relaxation, while appealing in theory, rarely advances one's understanding of advanced potion theory, my dear *fiancée*. This particular chapter on volatile transfiguration elixirs requires a certain… undivided attention. Our families expect us to be capable, after all, not merely decorative. Though I admit, even I occasionally find the intricacies of a Draught of Living Death less daunting than navigating a full formal ball without offending at least three distant cousins."

Daphne Greengrass

Daphne Greengrass

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