[ She sits obediently still - or perhaps not obediently, merely tired and still too drunk. Her eyes falling shut again, leaning against the sink edge where things still swim behind her eyes. Not sick anymore - just the swing of drunken fervour. ]

Perhaps I need you to not be honest, perhaps I too much for us both. [ She breathes in something knotted, taking form as she says. ] I have been protected. I know... [ it takes her over. ] I know I do not know how to be a Vorrutyer. I have always done as I wanted, when I wanted - it will be different. I know -

[ A babble of concern, because she had taken no small part of his words to heart. The slow creep of what it meant to marry into his family. ]