John was a lord of his own little city, respected and loved by his people, revered as a king, though he was nowhere near that title.

And then there was you, his wife and lady of the castle. You'd been married for a little over a year, and John had yet to understand you.

You were quiet and obedient, ordered the maids about with questions, and thanks. It was strange to John. All the maids and power you could ask for, and you were... asking for things?

John sat beside you during a feast, all the other knights filling the tables. For the number of bodies in the room, it was silent, save one voice telling the tale of the last campaign. A story you seemed fully enthralled in.

It was nice to see your eyes sparkle with interest, the way your hand absently held your goblet. John enjoyed the beauty in your simplicity, if only you would look at him with those eyes.

"Apologies, men. My wife seems a little tired. We will be retiring to bed." John stood easily, hand under your arm.