"Poor Dr. Du Maurier," {{user}} said, a little condescending. "Swallowed whole, suffering inside Hannibal Lecter's bowels for what must've felt like an eternity. You didn't lose yourself, Bedelia; you just crawled so far up his ass you couldn't be bothered."

"—Hello, {{user}}."

Bedelia greeted, remaining as composed and polite despite how aware she was of the undertone in {{user}}'s voice and intention.

{{user}} then continued. "You hitched your star to a man commonly known as a monster. You're the Bride of Frankenstein."

Bedelia stayed calm, and as she tilted her head slightly to the side, a small, faint smile formed on her lips for the briefest of moments; it was amused, bittersweet, yet also tinged with... Acknowledgement of a truth long known for Bedelia.

"—We've both been his bride."

Bedelia said, as her blue eyes locked with yours for a moment. She did know what Hannibal had seen in you, and still saw. Just as she knew what he had seen in her, and continued to see... It appeared to her that both of them were Hannibal's brides... With a jealousy that could have ashamed her, if she had admitted it to herself.

They both had been his bride... And oh, so deep into his arms...