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Which were once dark brown locks of long, flowing hair had turned into an uncaring mix of loose and straight strands. Eyes that were once an enchanting shade of forest green were now perpetually dim, lidded. And a ghostly complexion paled in comparison to the rosy warmth that it once was.
It had been nearly a fortnight since Leanna had arrived into her new home under her new, married name and her new life could easily garner the envy of many. To be young, beautiful, born into prestige and married into even more wealth-- the constant compliments she received, the gifts, the beautiful home, and pretty maids that were eager to satisfy her every beck and call...
She absolutely hated it.
Though neither her nor her husband, as far as she knew, had been directly involved, their families had acquired a long history of neighboring conflict and the animosity was only slightly quelled by their holy bond. And though her new home was just as beautiful, if not more so, than her birthhome, Leannna felt a longing to return to Litgarden. The lady had not been confined to her personal bedchamber, it was hard not to feel trapped under the constant attention from these foreign peoples whenever she ventured outside.
She had missed her own people and the warming affection they had for her, as she had for them. Every courtesy they paid her, every compliment, and every flower picked especially for her had given her the will to sacrifice her youth for their betterment, and thus she willingly married into disgrace. Leanna stood in the lowering, amber glow of her terrace windows as if she were attempting to recapture some of the warmth back into her life. It had always proved to be a futile endeavor, and instead she turned to face the assortment of rotting flowers left over from her wedding day that littered the walls like a cruel, decorative reminder of her state.
Leanna had thought her wedding to her rival husband would be the most humiliating experience of her young life, but the nights following had proved even more so. Leanna had nervously anticipated the inevitable loss her maidenhood, but her experience had been nothing like her friends had assured. Bedding with her husband had not made her feel “safe” or even “loved”. There was no affection between the two, and his bedding habits had often left the inexperienced Leanna feeling shamed and used. Leanna stirred uneasily as she recalled each time he had spilled his seed onto her supple, young body as if she were a whore instead of inside of her like a proper wife. There would never be enough baths or maids to scrub away the disgrace she felt afterward, she thought.
A sheer trail from her green, silk gown followed behind Leanna as she traveled to the corner of her room and met with a large mirror glass. She hardly recognized herself anymore, and staring into her changed, listless eyes had filled her with new spite.
The lowering amber sun marked her husband's return, and tonight, she would speak to him directly about his mistreatment of her. ”Under holy vows I am a wife, and a Lady of Litgarden. You will not treat me as a whore,” she spoke out loud in practice for his return.
It had been nearly a fortnight since Leanna had arrived into her new home under her new, married name and her new life could easily garner the envy of many. To be young, beautiful, born into prestige and married into even more wealth-- the constant compliments she received, the gifts, the beautiful home, and pretty maids that were eager to satisfy her every beck and call...
She absolutely hated it.
Though neither her nor her husband, as far as she knew, had been directly involved, their families had acquired a long history of neighboring conflict and the animosity was only slightly quelled by their holy bond. And though her new home was just as beautiful, if not more so, than her birthhome, Leannna felt a longing to return to Litgarden. The lady had not been confined to her personal bedchamber, it was hard not to feel trapped under the constant attention from these foreign peoples whenever she ventured outside.
She had missed her own people and the warming affection they had for her, as she had for them. Every courtesy they paid her, every compliment, and every flower picked especially for her had given her the will to sacrifice her youth for their betterment, and thus she willingly married into disgrace. Leanna stood in the lowering, amber glow of her terrace windows as if she were attempting to recapture some of the warmth back into her life. It had always proved to be a futile endeavor, and instead she turned to face the assortment of rotting flowers left over from her wedding day that littered the walls like a cruel, decorative reminder of her state.
Leanna had thought her wedding to her rival husband would be the most humiliating experience of her young life, but the nights following had proved even more so. Leanna had nervously anticipated the inevitable loss her maidenhood, but her experience had been nothing like her friends had assured. Bedding with her husband had not made her feel “safe” or even “loved”. There was no affection between the two, and his bedding habits had often left the inexperienced Leanna feeling shamed and used. Leanna stirred uneasily as she recalled each time he had spilled his seed onto her supple, young body as if she were a whore instead of inside of her like a proper wife. There would never be enough baths or maids to scrub away the disgrace she felt afterward, she thought.
A sheer trail from her green, silk gown followed behind Leanna as she traveled to the corner of her room and met with a large mirror glass. She hardly recognized herself anymore, and staring into her changed, listless eyes had filled her with new spite.
The lowering amber sun marked her husband's return, and tonight, she would speak to him directly about his mistreatment of her. ”Under holy vows I am a wife, and a Lady of Litgarden. You will not treat me as a whore,” she spoke out loud in practice for his return.