Yeah, the last one was angtsy as all get out but I had been sitting on that particular subject for months and had to do something about it.
She is insecure most of the time.
She does not like to change in front of him, public displays of affection are basically forbidden, he cannot enter the bath whenever she is already in there or he receives a very impressive interpretation of a banshee.
He adores it.
"I don't like the way my hips look in this " he hears her mutter from the wardobe.
He doesn't even look up from the stained glass window, seeing the spastic blobs of chariots and horses arriving at the far gates. He sips his wine slowly, the tart mouthful of blackberries making him almost purr in delight.
"I am sure you look fine," he assures her.
"But my hips just stick out so damn far," she groans.
And he chuckles, turning around to stare at the doors, hoping to catch just a smidgen of a glimpse. He gets her left side from the back, sees her discomfort in the way she repeatedly adjusts the robes on her...oddly protruding hip bones. She picks the oddest times for self concious. On a daily basis she explores in nothing more than her smalls, maybe a robe and even then it is far too sheer to count as clothing.
"Don't look," she squeals, pulling out of sight.
He is sure her cheeks are as red as wine and just as delicious. He smirks softly, setting his goblet down with a featherlight stroke of the wrist. He approaches the wardobe slowly, keeping a wary eye out for any shoe that comes flying because of his brave venture.
He sees her sitting on a stool, cheeks in hand and her back curved in a slouch. She looks up at him with stubborn defeat in her eyes. Several gowns lay draped over every available surface besides the floor, shoes of various types in a pile in the corner.
"Those were very expensive," he mutters, standing in front of her.
"I don't care," she huffs, looking down. "I can't wear any of it."
"And why not?"
"Hips," is all she says.
He chuckles softly and holds his hands out. She looks up and stares at him for a moment then sighs in defeat, letting him help her to her feet. He pulls her close and hums into her hair, closing his eyes after a moment.
"No mater what you wear, I will know you are the most stunning woman in there."
"It's not you I'm worried about tonight," she rests her left cheek against his chest. "I have to make a good impression on these people if I am to be your wife."
He hums, swaying gently. "You do not need to impress any one of those souls in there. They are more worried about their own appearance in front of me..."
She furrows her brow as he continues to hum and sway, taking her with him until he steps on her toe. She glares up at him but he just pouts and she sees the faint violet hue to his lips.
"How much have you had to drink?"
"Not enough."