[b]"I have no clue," Sylvia replied, trying to quell her growing annoyance with her husband, "Perhaps Emera is trying to [i]kill the excitement[/i] between them. I would bet on vampires if that's what she's doing."

Sylvia went to her boudoir & gently ran her fingers over an old comb she'd had for ages, passing it through her hair to calm herself down. There was no reason to be angry at Aranhil, but he was starting to get under her skin. Was he really content with a boring, predictable life & not finding her exciting anymore? Aranhil barely had physical contact with Sylvia anymore, even the kisses on her forehead & the quick hugs seemed to be coming to a halt; at this rate, they were going to be so emotionally distant, she would want nothing to do with him.

That was starting to scare Sylvia a bit, her growing distaste for her own husband. She didn't want to stand in the front lines of a war, but having [i]some[/i] unpredictability could be fun. She wasn't one for stuffy schedules & overbearing rules, & she certainly didn't like not being affectionate with the man she loved. Elves were so much freer & open with their emotions, & she knew Aranhil would be less willing to fawn over her than an elf, but he seemed almost content with them being strangers that birthed children & went to public functions together; what a horrifying notion for an Elf.

"I'd love to chat more, but I have an appointment with your mother & sister, Hallaer," Sylvia announced almost dismissively as she put her comb back down, "Your mother wants to discuss planning for the upcoming harvest festival, she said she'd like to incorporate Elven traditions this year."

Sylvia gave Aranhil a small, polite nod & went to exit her room. She didn't bother getting too close to him, for the fear that he may eventually deny her of affection altogether one day. The elf knew that the queen didn't care for her, but maybe she would help Slyvia with the growing rift between her & Aranhil, for his happiness, if nothing else.[/b]