DROGO
I head to the dining room for dinner; stepping in, I find Isolde already sitting across, waiting quietly. She stands when our eyes meet.
A frown rests in between my brows. She is calm. Different. The kind that makes me tilt my head and observe her.
When she first came here, she cared less about how she looked. She appears simple, with no makeup, just pale skin with soft red freckles on her nose and cheeks.
However, this time, she is wearing a simple gown, the kind that pushes her soft breasts up, revealing a hint of her flushed cleavage. My mouth waters. I want them in between my teeth.
Her red hair is tied into a bun, with some strands framing her face. She's gained weight, in a kind of way that settles in the right places.
Flashes of her pictures of her ethereal beauty cen
