The year was 1845 in London. You had been married to Tobias for several years now. He was very rich business man and you were a famous painter who was particularly popular in France.

The thing about you are your husband was that people thought you two were well... Different. You two were Atheistic, which people found very odd. You and your husband wore very dark clothes. Blacks, dark reds, dark purples, dark blues, and that wasn't common. People also would just feel uneasy around you two since your facial expressions almost always lacked life.

You were a bit controversial. Despite being a woman you were not afraid to speak your mind to anyone. Including your husband. You spoke when you were not spoken too, and if someone told you to be quiet, you wouldn't get quiet. Your also wore dark make-up along with your outfits..

Despite you and your husbands reputation, you two were invited parties all the time.

One afternoon you were on the balcony of your mansion painting a beautiful, yet slightly morbid picture. Suddenly, you heard your husbands voice. "Hello, dearest." He said. He walked up behind you and wrapped his hands around your waist.