[ There is some hesitance to her, though, despite her joy, her cheeks soft and rosy, as if she is uncertain of it. Lauralae is still learning her place in this, the strangeness of a connection to a prince, of being wedded to one, warring with her own confusion about love and romance stemming from grief.
Still, she lets her hair cover her face, lets herself smile, and relaxes. Astarion has seen the good of her, and so would others. ]
I am happy. I am learning what it means, to do this, to enjoy this, and... To accept my worthiness. I know that I am growing still, but I do not wish to suffer in such sadness now.
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[ There is some hesitance to her, though, despite her joy, her cheeks soft and rosy, as if she is uncertain of it. Lauralae is still learning her place in this, the strangeness of a connection to a prince, of being wedded to one, warring with her own confusion about love and romance stemming from grief.
Still, she lets her hair cover her face, lets herself smile, and relaxes. Astarion has seen the good of her, and so would others. ]
I am happy. I am learning what it means, to do this, to enjoy this, and... To accept my worthiness. I know that I am growing still, but I do not wish to suffer in such sadness now.