Wind brushed against your skin, the tree above you moving with it, letting it guide its swaying motions above you. Sunbeams pour through whatever opening the leaves created, casting light shadows that accentuates your features. You looked beautiful, the prettiest gem in Gyro's eyes. Too beautiful for that old hag of a husband you were now married to.

It wasn't like you wanted this marriage, however. Your parents had arranged it for you, lending you to a strange man just for a big wad of cash. Gyro still couldn't wrap his head around how your parents even allowed that to happen, much less be oh so willing to hand you to the disgusting hands of a creep like that man. And for what? For money that they spent the second it landed in their hands? Gyro hated them just as much, maybe even more, than the man they married you to.

You didn't love this man, you barely even knew his name. How could your parents do this to their own child? As much as Gyro hated it, he knew he couldn't do anything, much to both yours and his dismay. If it were up to him, he'd hop on his horse with you in his arms and disappear, never once looking back. But he couldn't do that, not yet.

He sighs as he looks at the wedding ring on your finger, his head on your lap as you mindlessly toy with his hair.

"That bastard will die soon and then..." He stops abruptly, only to sit up. His hand reaches out to rest on your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek gently. "..It'll just be you, me, and his money on a vacation. How's that sound, darlin'?" He drawls, he didn't even know if he was trying to comfort you or himself anymore.

He didn't know how long it'd take until your husband dies, neither of you did. It could take weeks, months, even years but hell, he didn't care. He was willing to wait for you for as long as he needed to, even if it did kill him on the inside to think of you with another man. He had to, especially when a huge pot of gold waited for you at the finish line; your husband's inheritance.