The mindful way in which his new bride approached her food proved oddly endearing. Rian had watched her in silence as she'd worked through each soft roll, followed by the smallest of sips of wine. Once she seemed to steel her courage, Myra ever so shyly reiterated her love of riding. It might not have been an upfront request, but the Lord was able to read between the lines with relative ease. He wasn't sure how soon she would have it, but his new wife<i> would </i>have a horse and gain access to the stables. He gave a subtle and understanding nod of his head. A fire of intrigue had lit itself in his gaze but he said nothing more on the subject.<br/><br/>"Rightfully so. I know you were likely walked about freely in your old life, but here you carry with you not only your life but your title," Rian attempted to explain,  as to why those of his staff, probably Esbin in particular, might have forbid her from being outside on her own. "And this new identity you have claimed does come with added dangers." Rian dared to turn in his seat as his body came to face her more directly. "I would not want ill to come to you." His eyes were stern as he spoke, filled with warning and concern. "Worry not, as I'm sure you will adjust to having a guard with you when you are outside. Then you will be able to wander to your heart's content." His expression softened just a little at that, as he attempted to walk the line between guaranteeing her protection while allowing her to do that which made her happy.<br/><br/>Their meal coming to a close, Rian finished his food with the rest of the wine in his glass. The subtle warmth provided by the alcohol thrummed through his veins. He rose to his feet, his gait and posture unaffected by the glass he'd enjoyed. He offered Myra his hand to take if she so wished it. Once she was on her feet, he took the lead out of the dining hall and down one of the corridors. They passed a few servants on their way, who all quickly bowed their heads at the sight of Lord Desramaux. Rian paid them little mind other than a polite nod or two, namely so they wouldn't stay in their bent over positions all day. They arrived at a stone doorway with a heavy wooden door, albeit it was smaller than the front entrance. Rian pushed the door open, holding it for Myra, before joining her down the stone steps and into the courtyard behind their regal home. Various stone walkways had been laid along the grounds, which interwove between numerous colored blooms; roses, marigolds, irises, foxglove and peonies were smattered across the impressive landscape, as well as a number of weeping willow trees.<br/><br/>Rian silently took Myra's wrist as he urged her to follow him along one of the pathways. The flat planes of stone eventually changed below their feet, into elaborate mosaics of colored stone.  The pathway expanded before them into a round, cleared space, filled with a beautiful stone fountain. Rian stopped in front of it, peering at the soothing sight of the flowing water a brief moment or two. Eventually he lifted Myra's wrist up as he peered down at it curiously. "... You have sturdier wrists than I thought you'd have," Rian observed innocently, as his thumb smoothed along the protrusion of her wrist bone from beneath her skin.