The carriage rattled down the cobblestone streets, lantern light flickering on its polished sides. Inside, the air was thick with silence, broken only by the rhythmic clatter of hooves.
Seraphine or rather, Lissa trapped in her skin slumped against the cushions, throwing her arms dramatically upward as though performing to an invisible crowd.
"Oh my god, Elric. That was… that was hell. Pure, suffocating, corset-strangling hell."
Elric, seated across from her, gave no visible reaction. His posture was as stiff and proper as always, his gloved hands resting on his knees. Only the faint flicker of his gaze suggested he acknowledged her words at all.
"I mean, first," Lissa continued, jabbing a finger toward her chest, "the dress. The dress! I specifically told you, please Elric, not something I can't breathe in, and what do I get? A medieval boa constrictor disguised as silk. I could feel my lungs crying for mercy the entire evening."
