My Bride l

"What do you think you're doing?"

Louisa sat up straighter on the plush divan she was reclining in at the hour. Since the bell rang for supper, she'd kept her orbs peering out into the thick blanket of the night that enveloped the sky. There were a lot of things she could succumb to musing over— but she was determined to not give Him, or anyone else the satisfaction of seeing her faint. She, as Thomas had said to her, was determined to make the most of every moment: smile with the sunrise and bask in the cooling breeze. Though the night was raw, she wished she could see him then: her knight in shining armour, or was he not?

Tricia, a sleek brown-skinned girl, who was laying the table in front of her, looked like she was sulking about having to come up to her bedroom at all. She unhunched her back and slid her hands into the front pocket of her spotless white petticoat. "Brightfin is a bit unwell," she said.