The cape draped over Shirayuki's frame, like a warm embrace, a gentle hug. And for a moment, all Obi could see was the regalness of a queen in Shirayuki, someone born into and raised to rule. Someone spectacularly beautiful and so far out of reach. Someone stunning like a star or a beacon, that could capture just a simple look or a glance and turn it into a wave of emotion, a wave of yearning, a wave of longing.
Obi's throat went dry, and all he could do was stare.
"I don't feel like a duchess." Shirayuki admits, sighing, "I thought I'd feel different the day after I married Zen, not like I wanted to be one, but still." She pouts, and there's a glimpse to the Shirayuki that Obi knows and loves.
"You look the part, don't worry." Obi hopes it's reassuring, though it comes out a bit more sarcastic than soothing, but it's a force of habit anyway.
"If you're sure. I feel like the last minute secretary Izana temporarily hired all over again." Her voice is more morose and monotone than exuberant by any means.
"You're prepared for this, Miss." Obi smiles, just as much as his heart aches, which is more than he ever expected, "I've watched you grow into being a duchess all these years."
Shirayuki sighs, but she gives him a smile and slowly she puffs back up, ready for her next adventure. She will ace it; that's for sure.
"Thank you, Obi." She smiles at him, half-sadly, "I'm sorry for troubling you."
"No trouble, Miss." Obi smiles, radiantly, he hopes, "You're never any trouble." Sure, she's troubled his heart dozens of times, but he wouldn't really tell her that.
"Doubtful." But she looks a bit happier now as she prepares to walk into her first meeting as duchess, trying to act and feel the part.