If anyone ever said Lina was talkative, she would be ready to accuse that particular someone of a blatant lie. On this day, however, she had barely managed a full sentence. Not that she was supposed to talk much or even was asked for consent; though, when occasionally Atal or Freya asked her about anything, they were getting a smile, a nod, a one-word answer, that seemed so far away lost in the clouds they both stopped trying a while ago.<br/><br/>Maybe they just understood she did have a lot to think about.<br/><br/>In the consequence of the previous night she didn’t recognize herself.<br/><br/>A gift she had believed to be something to bestow upon someone she’d love paled and turned into dust in front of an easily ignited feral lust.<br/><br/>The memory of Atal driving all his thick length into her made her sigh. Strange was that she didn’t feel any remorse or hangover and the fact rendered her this recluse. When Freyja left the cabin, she remained completely alone with her thoughts, though she managed a smile before she was gone.<br/><br/>Soon after she heard voices and the carriage slowed before it came to a full stop. Lina sat still, yet she even stopped breathing to catch what was going on. As soon as the word Garbarlo sank in, Freyja’s voice sounded clear as glass through the air.<br/><br/>„Our lady will have to wait until we can aid these people. Please make sure she does not fear for her safety, Maquez.“<br/><br/>‘Lady? Maquez?’ she asked herself, not really sure what it was supposed to mean before Atal called Freyja ‘Adela.’ Only did it occur to her this was just another disguise and Lina suddenly didn’t know what to do. But since she was the Lady, what was she supposed to do else than arrange her shawl a little better around her arms, straighten her back, put on an aristocratic face and pretend the Lady had fallen asleep until anyone came to her with instructions?