"Hm."<br/><br/>The response was an acknowledgement of her speaking more an anything. Darius idly pushed the shards of expensive crystal into a small pile with his foot. Honestly, Darius didn't know what to think of Gwen's newest decision. She had been baited into it, that much was sure. The fact that she had the backbone to request it though bore her in a new light. Before he really had a chance to reply, his Mistress had turned her back to him and things around the room began to happen. The shapes and forms that the shadows took on were not something he could have dreamed up on his own. They were not hallucinations, nor were they something he felt should be idly toyed with. Several steps backwards were taken.<br/><br/>Once he was a safe distance away, or so he hoped, he flipped one of the smaller chairs around and straddled it to simply watch. If the intent to harm him was there, it would have been done already. Finally, the shadows dissipated, and Gwen apparently had the answers that she sought. After the initial twinge of cautious fear faded, admittedly it was curiosity that bloomed as Darius had watched. Perhaps she would be able to teach him something small, just to taste what she obviously drank deeply from.<br/><br/>"Fair, but unrealistic. If you say it can be done though, I will withhold doubts."<br/><br/>Taking her hand, he pulled lightly towards the doorway. "The fitting can wait. A large portion of it is laced, and I can have several sent to my chambers for you to try on for sizing. Whatever fits, we'll keep. The rest we can unlace and add to the bedding for warmth." Making sure that she was behind him, he left the room and headed towards the far end of the palace where his chambers sat.<br/><br/>"I need you to understand something though. As barbaric as the custom is in your eyes, it does hold great meaning to the people here. It is a mark of honor, and one of pride. It tells those that see it or even hints of it, that you had the strength of will, and the desire to be with me so badly that you would allow me to mark your body as my own. Marriage is a ceremony of words and flowery kisses. The bond a man shares with his Mistress transcends that. Especially since it is my hand that will be guiding the heated needles. This will be no clumsy symbol on a fire poker." He slows his pace so that he fell into step beside her rather than in front of her.<br/><br/>"A wife submits because she must. My mistress submits because she chooses to." His face twisted slightly into irritation for a moment, but quickly smoothed. "It bothers me to hear such a tradition compared to the branding of livestock. The mark you bear will be protection not from assassination, but from rape. A woman without a mark or escort is vulnerable. With my brand, men will bow. You carry near the same authority as I at that point, without the danger of challenge."<br/><br/>Stopping at the large pair of ornately decorated doors that reached somewhere around fourteen feet tall, he waved at the six guardsman. "Do not disturb me for any reason once I cross inside. No matter what you hear."