Kore stared at him like he was the first man she’d ever seen. As he drew near, she thought he must be able to hear the hammer of her pulse and flushed. How unbecoming of her. “My king,” she started, when he came to his knees before her. She’d been taught that kings should never be compelled to their knees. Certainly, the blinding Zeus would never consider such a thing, least of all before a woman.<br/><br/>When he placed her hands on his shoulders she could barely meet his gaze. Ah, what was all this? Kore was certain she was growing lightheaded, and she had to think harder than she should have had to about breathing like she hadn’t just run a race. Was it normal? She shifted where she sat. “I hope that I am sufficient.” She mumbled. What an immature creature she was, despite all her court’s best efforts. They should have let her learn her own way, perhaps, so that she might have feet to stand on now. She wondered if he would find her lacking for her fumbling.<br/><br/>Kore couldn’t help but to let out a little sigh when he pulled the laces of her bodice loose. She was slender, but she’d been tightened into the corset until it had been impossible to take full breaths. Such was the fashion. She bit her lip. How embarrassing. And then she was infinitely more self-aware, her sleeves slipping from her shoulders to bare the soft spans of her skin. It was strange to be so acutely aware of being undressed. Her attendants had helped her many times, and she’d never felt so much heat in her cheeks.<br/><br/>She squeezed her eyes shut tight when the dress finally fell away and she was left in the thin ribbons of lace and silk that had been twisted to cover her like a gift, rather than a woman. She folded her arms across herself and ducked her head so that she did not have to see what sort of face he might make at her, vulnerable as she coiled on his—their—bed.<br/><br/>It took Kore a moment to realize she was being improper, caught up in the sound of her own heart beating in her ears. She heard the soft sound of fabrics moving, though, and realized with a start that her husband was disrobing himself. “Ah, that is… uhm, I’m sorry, let me help.” She moved toward him in her sudden small panic, reaching to help move his coat from his shoulders, and then froze when she caught his gaze. Her lips parted, struck by the great difference between them. He was so very collected for all her fretting.<br/><br/>Kore’s limbs moved in slow motion, gradually taking back up the task she’d rushed to assist. Her bare skin was a pale contrast to the dark fabrics she helped slide from his frame, the firelight brushing her in golden hues. If she focused on this small act, she could slow her anxious breath. If she held his gaze, she did not have to drown in her own vulnerability. Like sinking into a meditation, she hardly noticed when they were both bare to one another, their clothes sliding in piles to the floor beside the bed, and was abruptly faced again with her own naivety.