gentleman, is she rly your wife if you don't kill her once?

Without any particular rush, she turned slowly at the sound of her name. A brow arched, but she chose not to answer, smiling pleasantly instead. So Feredir had decided to return, had he? How magnanimous of him. Mythal watched in amusement as he climbed out the window after her, her head tilting a little at his evident rush. Why? Did he think that the stones would rise up and attack her? Or that perhaps she would slip on the stairs and fall to the courtyard below?

Hands still clasped behind her back, the telltale prickle of magic danced across her bare skin. An invisibility spell? She laughed then, but the look she leveled at him did not match the sound. Why, I decided to go for a walk since you left so abruptly. What was she doing indeed! I did not know you were going to retrieve the paints since you did not say a word. Because he had said nothing.

Her eyes narrowed. You are certain that I will like them? I seem to recall something akin to tasting what ground up stone must taste like, with the consistency of paste… Mythal did not immediately set herself there at his side, not just yet, but she was willing to be coaxed and cajoled into it. She looked up at her wolf expectantly.