Maribelle had always been a vocal advocate for the finer things in life. Very vocal, in fact.
Ok, maybe it was more like nagging, but who could really blame her? Someone had to add a bit of class to the otherwise plebian masses that constituted The Shepherds, and it might as well be her. There was always at least one aspect of those around her that she felt she must change. Lon'qu's female phobia was unbecoming, Vaike was constantly gambling away the army's reserves, and even Robin lacked an air of gentility. Maribelle sighed, thinking of all the work that had to be done to make her compatriots acceptable.
Honestly, she thought, there are some days I feel the need to give up. They're all so hopeless! Well, not all of them. Maribelle's thoughts drifted to her darling Lissa, as they so often did. How ironic that her treasure was the only one that seemed interested in knowing how to be a proper lady, and yet she didn't need to change a bit.
In Maribelle's (self-proclaimed) professional opinion, Lissa was the epitome of perfection; the young princess was always so kind, even to those too far below her station to even be worthy of her attention. Not only that, but she was beautiful as well, with big clear blue eyes and feathery-soft hair that cascaded around her face.
But what Maribelle truly loved about Lissa (and there was no use lying to herself, she was truly smitten with her best friend) was her strong spirit. During many of their afternoon teatimes, Lissa would confide her wish to be as graceful and demure as her late sister Emmeryn, who had been the very model of delicate elegance to the very end. As Lissa would gush about her sister and how she wanted to be just like her, Maribelle was forced to bite her tongue to avoid screaming at the poor girl. You are not your sister! she wanted to shout, Don't you see how perfect you are, the way my heart flutters when you so gleefully cleave a Risen in two, how much it pains me to hear you belittle yourself?!
She wanted to say this and many other things to her darling treasure, but she could not force herself to choke out the words. To say all this would ruin the only friendship Maribelle couldn't bear to lose, and so she sits there, sips her citrus tea, and gives Lissa advice on how to behave like she feel a princess should. But in the back of her mind, Maribelle prays her love will not listen to a word of her advice.