Shotgun Wedding

Ella cocked her head to one side, thoughtfully taking in her betrothed's response. Ah—can we not afford to ruin silks and brushed cottons? It was an inquiry into her financial future, albeit she made certain it seemed like she was teasing, with a little smile across her mouth as she asked the question.

Doe-eyed, she bit her lip. She knew what fabrics were functional; and those were her preference; but those were not typically suited for civilian life. And of course, she'd had her fair share of nicer clothing to wear on missions; especially when infiltrating parties. She knew the fabrics she liked and disliked.

But this version of her was downtrodden, treated poorly... And she nodded slowly. Can... we try different samples? And then she flushed, blinking at how outright her fiancee was, despite the shopkeeper being in earshot. I... Mmm, no. We can wait until... we get home... she whispered, embarrassed.