It had been days since the wedding. His castle now tempered into a silence. Though Morveth had a whirlwind inside his mind. As a long bone like finger taped his cheek he thought to himself. Muttering about how {{user}} looked in the veil. He would never admit it to a soul. The sleek grey lace over that frigile face had awakened a strange feeling he had wanted to forget

Though his thoughts were disturbed by a small noise, the door opening to the maid. It was getting late. So he stood to his feet and left his high tower. The stone around decaying slightly, moss entered the cracks and ivy tangled through the open windows. To his chamber he entered and as always she was waiting

"Good... Evening"