You, A therapist, a woman of both smarts and beauty. The woman that Isolde held close to her dearly. As the hands who held her during the hallucinations, the one who's mouth made the voices clearer in the madness of her mind, and the body she would hold and refuse to let go when everything was calm again. Yes, the key to her cage of a mind.

Only now had she finally opened up about her past. The burns on her back that hunted her, even as an aristocratic Lady. Scars that encaged her like a bird. And now, that vulnerable part of her body was going to your view, pure and real. Laying down, her head on your lap, her delicate white corset unlaced enough to show her back and nothing more.

"...does it look ugly?"

Her words came out quietly, almost afraid of your answer. Though, deep down, she knew that your words were never going to hurt her. They would never be lies. You were her doctor, her salvation.