Her heart squeezed tightly at the thought of him, almost painfully.
His kindness, thoughtfulness and affectionate touch warmed her heart so. How had she been so lucky to stumble upon this wandering Lord and become worthy of the bestowment of his love?
She was a mage. A servant of power to her master.
How could she possibly become more or even dare to dream of such a thing? But his warm eyes and hearth-burning voice had seeped so smoothly into her bones and truly melted away her disbelief with the words, "Of course I am in love with you."
And as most dreams fade into the night, wither away with our fragile memories and never bear witness to the morning light, she feared that his passion would erode. That as a young, beguiling and world-bearing soul, his heart would seek another, an equal.
But alas, he did not. Her hand in marriage and her heart in his, they welcomed a life of prosperous peace, relishing the warmth of each other between cool linen sheets and interlaced expectations of a future family.
She was his still. Forever. For all eternity, just like when they had first began their contract. But not to seek victory in a game of war but this time, they had given themselves to each other as equals, bound for a normal and quaint adventure.