She is my beloved, resting her head on the chair by the fireplace, warming her body. She always complained about being cold. I grasp her delicate hand, offering a comforting squeeze before sweeping her from the chair into my arms. Her head falls softly on my shoulder. My eyes meet hers, the icy hue enchanting me. She never breaks eye contact, a show of her unyielding confidence.

"Even the wolves cannot rival your powerful grace," I murmur in her ear. She says nothing, accepting the compliment in stride. I plant a kiss on her forehead as we reach our bedroom.

The heat from the fireplace is almost stifling, but it never bothered my dear Penelope. I place her on the freshly made bed, gently unlacing her slippers and placing them by the bed. I down a glass of the potent liquor by the bed, letting it muddy my senses. Her gaze never fails to undo my very being. It's dim, but the fire illuminates her sharp features in flickers of yellow. I reach for the oil in the drawer, open the bottle, and place some on her silky skin. Her face displays protest, but I silence her. She always loved it when I pampered her. I rub the oil all over her body, making sure not to miss an inch. Her skin glistens with every crackle as the pungent smell permeates the room. It never bothered me; I would do anything to keep my soulmate. Finally, I spritz her favorite perfume, a blend of gardenias and jasmine. When our eyes meet, she seems to watch me with calm approval.

I tuck her into bed, snuggling beside her. Her eyes close immediately, and she falls fast asleep. I chuckle at how she always falls asleep first. Every night, I reserve a moment of silence to stop and admire her beauty. She would call me madly in love if she knew. My beloved is mine, and I am hers. Nothing could ever make me happier. Since the day I laid eyes on her all those months ago, I knew I had to make her mine. I remember the moment like it was yesterday, the strumming of the harp as we locked eyes. She introduced herself as Lady Penelope, but I did not need an introduction. Her name echoed across households, a duchess known for her strong-willed nature. Her silky laughter at my jokes stamped itself on my heart. Not even her husband could separate our undying love. I know with certainty that Penelope is the happiest when she's with me.

"We shall live together evermore, my love," I whisper, holding her exquisite frame. My head rests on her chest. The room is silent, save for the fireplace and my sluggish breathing. The alcohol gradually overtakes me until I cannot think of anything else but her. She makes me the happiest man in the world. I only wish she could hold me back. Even when I can no longer hear her heart, I thank the heavens above for letting me take her. Forever.